hasta mañana banana

Day 39: Hatha Ouch!

2011-11-09T09:26:00.001-08:00

Tuesdays Hatha class was rough. If I thought I was sore on Monday after my hike on Sunday then I was surely surprised with Tuesdays pain. On Sunday I hiked "The Chief" in Squarmish,( http://www.vancouvertrails.com/trails/stawamus-chief/) about an hour north of Vancouver, on the way up to Whistler. It's a giant rock face known as a outdoor rock climbing Mecca but you can hike a path up the back of it to a peak with an amazing view. It's steep and pretty challenging and at the top you have to use a chain to pull yourself up really steep parts. Going up was fine, but the steepness coming back down was killer on the legs. My knees even started hurting which has never happened to me before causing my hiking pal to say "hurry up grandma knees". So Tuesday I could not walk without pain. And the Hath class that I went to was a challenging one, with heaps of lunges and balancing. Thanks universe. I thought for sure I wouldn't be able to touch my toes but sure enough after warming up the toe touch came easily. We did some plank poses and I actually felt strong in them though I know I have along way to go with the core shit. Core is my greatest challenge, the Sistine Chapel of my body work. If I ever get a strong core, which for me means being able to do a single sit-up un assisted, it's my CC on the bar cause that will be a day for a party.

Day 38: I am behind on my posts! Trying the catch up!

2011-11-09T09:10:00.001-08:00

Day 38. Up early for the 7am Hatha class as I had a work event in the evening. As I am nearing the end of the challenge one thing I know for sure, I will continue doing yoga. However, I will NOT be getting up early for yoga. Once I am up it's all fine. I like the darkness and calm of the new day but the actually getting up part. I hate it with a passion only felt against world problems much larger than me being a lazy shit who loves her sleep.

The instructor had a really annoying voice too! I feel mean but it was like her "soothing" voice was totally put on. She was calm and breathy and it all felt a bit dramatic. Though it was early and I wad sore from a weekend hike so I just tried to zone out and stretch how I could considering my whole body felt stiff.

Day 37: Bad Blogger

2011-11-06T18:20:00.000-08:00

Over a week without blogging, did ya'll think I fell off the yoga bandwagon? No siree, all is good. There was a nasty little exam last week that meant all my energy was spent towards that and there was no time for blogging. Just work, yoga and study like a good little student. My spirits are up, exam is over and the yoga continues. No big breakthrough, by day 37 I would have hoped to be able to stand on my head by now but I now realise I cannot be amazing at this in just 37 days. It doesn't work that way. :( My only miracle has been to be able to touch my toes and that is the miracle that I am holding on to. Ok maybe there has been another small miracle. There is this pose called "Happy Baby". Funny name, funny ass pose. It looks like this.

I prefer to call it, "off to the gynacologist" pose

So I couldn't do it before, well I could kind of do it but it hurt like hell. But this week, we had to go into this pose, and I did it, and it felt totally easy. Which caught me by suprise cause I didn't expect off to the gynacologist pose to finally feel like this:

Happy baby! Of course! This lil fella is totally zenned out.

So I suppose you can call that a little breakthrough. I can't believe I am on day 37 already. It's gone by so fast and has been so easy to incorporate into my life. I realised that every single other "activity" i have ever done I have always been aware of the clock. When I run I check the clock regularly and when I hit my destination or my running time limit I am well aware of the time spent. But the 1h 15m at yoga seems like it flies by, there are no clocks but I am always shocked when it comes time for savasana, I think, "wow, already?" it doesn't drag on at all. This is a good thing!

Day 28: Deep South Hatha

2011-10-29T18:56:00.000-07:00

Friday nights Hatha class with Dan. It was pretty non eventful, I liked his class but I didn't loooove it. This could have been because he would start instructing in one voice and then part way through the sentence he would change his accent into an deep south american drawl. It was pretty comical really. God, I am getting really bitchy towards the instructors. It's hard not to.

Day 27: Cheerleader Vinyasa Power Flow

2011-10-29T13:54:00.000-07:00

Day 27's class I decided to try a Vinyasa class as I was feeling chirpy and felt like something a bit more active. My new flatmate is a Yoga freak, I rarely see her at home, in fact, I've seen her more times at Yoga than in the house. Anyway, I remember her saying to me that she really liked Crista's class, but I remember that Crista was the "cheerleader yoga instructor" from the first intro class so I have kinda avoided her classes. I decided that I would give it a go anyway just in case my initial judgement of her annoying cheerleader tone and exagerated movements was unfair.

Her class was packed, she was clearly popular. Thankfully, although she retained a bit of a cheerleaders voice, she wasn't as bad as in that initial first class. But her class was very challenging and there was heaps of arm balancing poses that I was not even close to being able to achieve. And when googling images in order to demostrate what the poses were and how hard this shit is, I get images of an 83 year old woman doing them! What!!?? How weak am I!?

"The Crow" I can't do this and risk cracking my head open on the yoga mat but I feel like with a bit of practice I may be close to getting it. Yeah totally.


Headstand, It looks easy, cause we all did it as kids, but kills your head, neck and arms. You actually start this one with your feet on the ground. That's as far as I got. I might join the Sikh religion. wrap my head in a turban next time for extra support.

Grandma is totally showing off here. I hate her.

Day 26: Yin Love

2011-10-27T09:34:00.001-07:00

Aaaaah, so my system when my body has been feeling fatigued has been an early morning class on one day, followed by the latest Yin class the following day, giving my body a pretty good rest between classes. This has been an excellent system and last night's Yin class was love-e-ly. Beverly is my new favourite Yin teacher. She was the one from last week who had that Pema Chodron quote and spoke about patience throughout the whole class. This class she spoke about uniqueness and loving yourself. She is the bloody Yin counselor I tell you. The last line of this massive quote she read was "I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments". Oriah

Whoa, heavy bro.

I can't help but bawl my eyes out during savasana at the end of her classes and I think I'm not the only one, the girl next to me was sniffling at the end too! Holy hell, yin-goers are a mess!
But after the cry I feel pretty damn good. I think she must have seen me crying cause she came up to me at the end of the class and rubbed my shoulder and told me that I'm "looking good, much more open". Hmmm, open! Cool. Not quite sure what that means, but I'll take it.

After Yin you just want to go straight home and jump into bed. You sleep like a baby. Insomniacs take note.

I hear ya homie.

Day 25: AWOL

2011-10-25T12:47:00.000-07:00

3 yoga days and no post. Oopsie. I was still yogaing don't worry, I have not fallen off the 40 day wagon. Day 22 was a Saturday. I did an active Power class to get my body moving after my slow sore YIN practice the night before. I did me some sweatin and it felt good.

Theeeeeen Saturday night I got quite drunk. It was the tequilas fault. I was horizontal all day Sunday and I dragged my ass up to yoga for the last class on Sunday night, day 23. I wanted to vommit my way through the whole class and when I felt dizzy from down faced dog I just lay in childs pose for a bit until I had the stomach to move again. Yoga is friendly like that. No boot camp nazi screaming at you for being weak and lazy, no no no, yoga people say, "if anything is too much, just go into childs pose..." Yes thanks, I need me some of that.

Cept' I can't do proper childs pose, I need a support under my head like this guy. Mmmm almost like a pillow.

I can't say I made any progress in this class, I was just lucky to survive it. And Savasana never felt so good.

Seriously, some people go all out for savasana and get props and blankies and everything. It really is a cosy time but sometimes I think people go too far. Maybe they are all hungover too and really need this like I did.

So day 24 I did a Hatha class it felt pretty uneventful and quite frankly I felt pretty stiff, thought maybe my body was still recovering from that evil Mexican elixir from Saturday night.

Day 25, today, I woke up ridicuously early as I am going to see the Foo Fighters after work tonight. So I did a Power Class at 6.15 am. Man it was early. Today it may have been confirmed that I feel like I have hit a wall. My lower back is a little achy and I felt a bit tired in the old body. Like all over. It feels like the same wall I hit during week 1. My body doesn't feel like I can push it, it is acting like it's at a standstill and will not budge an inch. Stubborn mofo. Anyhoo. I don't have another class till tomorrow night and I might do Yin to give it a lil rest. It will not defeat me.

Day 21: Yin

2011-10-22T00:25:00.000-07:00

Yin. Meh.

The slow stretchy one. I was bored today. All the stretches hurt! WTF! Day 21, I am supposed to be bendy dammit! Does my lesson in patience need to go on forever! Aargh!

We totally did this pose today. It looks awkward but is really quite comfy.

Day 20: Halfway!

2011-10-21T12:26:00.001-07:00

20 days straight! I simply cannot believe it! What I can't believe even more is how easy it's been to incorporate into my life. Well, ok, it's not like I do much else with my time, single, not a stressful job, not many friends, in that respect it is understandable how easy it is. But more, how effortless it feels. I always tried to exercise before yoga and it was always like peeling myself off the wall Dali style.I like that this doesn't feel like it requires any effort to get my ass there. I have no doubt the next 20 days will be a cinch and can't wait to see what changes will occur in my body. Strong but flexible, that is my mantra. I want to feel that way both mentally and physically.

There was a special halfway class last night at the "big" studio. I never go there so a class without 5000 people in a small room was good. Like the intro class it involved all 4 types of yoga that they offer there. Yin, Hatha, Power Vinyasa & Kundalini. It was on a bit later than the usual class I would go to on a work night and as I was pottering about at home the new flatmate came home with a bottle of red and FORCED me to drink some with her. With a couple of hours to burn I couldn't say no so I went to yoga a little tipsy. Drunk yoga is not good for balance let me tell you. There were quite a few balancing poses in the Vinyasa part and I was all over the shop. But drunk Kundalini yoga is actually quite fun. It's that crazy dancing arm waving one, still don't think I will get into a whole 75 mins of a Kundalini class but it was fun to dance around for 10 minutes at the end of the class. It made me feel like fame.

Quote

2011-10-20T13:23:00.000-07:00

I found the quote that the Yin lady read yesterday, it's a goodie:

“…feelings like disappointment, embarrassment, irritation, resentment, anger, jealousy, and fear, instead of being bad news, are actually very clear moments that teach us where it is that we’re holding back. They teach us to perk up and lean in when we feel we’d rather collapse and back away. They’re like messengers that show us, with terrifying clarity, exactly where we’re stuck. This very moment is the perfect teacher, and, lucky for us, it’s with us wherever we are.”

― Pema Chödrön

Day 19: Ok, ok, I get it!

2011-10-19T22:40:00.000-07:00

So as I said in a few of my last posts I am feeling a bit low again. 2 weeks ago I felt like I was healing, I didn't feel 100% but I felt on the way, positive and a little bit happy. Then the past week I've felt down again. I felt like I have gone backwards, regressed, I feel like I will NEVER get happy, I feel like I will NEVER feel like myself again. I feel like all this damn healing is taking waaaaaay too long. I took this feeling to the counselor. She said I was impatient for progress and I am doing fine. My Mum agrees. My friend Amanda says I am going strong even though I don't always feel it. Then in tonights Yin class, the teacher starts off with this quote. A chinese proverb: Be not afraid of growing slowly, be afraid only of standing still. Ok, ok, it's a very Yin thing to say but hello, WAS SHE TALKING DIRECTLY TO ME??? Then during a long stretch she told a story about a woman who went hiking with a sore ankle, rushed ahead during the hike and hurt her ankle again and had to be carried down the mountain pissed off on a mule (it was Peru), and then another quote, too long to remember exact words but it was all about going where the pain is blah blah blah and not rushing away.... Far out man, Alright already universe, I get it! I hear your call! I gotta chill out and stop being impatient. I suppose people just gotta keep telling you till you finally listen. I will listen this time I swear.

Also, bloody love kindle. The yoga teacher was reading from a book by someone called Pema Chodron, whose name I just came across the other day god knows where. I go home, find her on amazon download one of her books literally 15 minutes after I hear her first quote in yoga. Kindle. You rock.

If I had a dog I would totally take it to yoga.

Day 18: Samantha has competition

2011-10-19T19:52:00.000-07:00

I wanted to go to a Yin class (the super relaxing one) as I have done 11 Hatha classes in a row so I thought I'd mix it up. It's kinda the height of laziness as Hatha is pretty chilled so to take a break with an even more chilled one is pretty lame but whatevs. I need to be chilled man. I am running on high anxiety numbers. But anyway, it seems the universe had something else planned for me. When I got to the Yin class it was super packed. LuluLemon bodies strewn all over the place and yoga mats practically up the walls. And this was Yin! I was stressed just looking inside! So I decided to walk to the other studio, about 20 mins away to do the 7.30 Hatha class instead. When the Hatha class started, Jacqui the instructor said, "some people say my Hatha class is more like a Power class". GREAT I thought, the opposite of relaxing. This lady is going to make me do 100 plank poses! :( Anyway, it was an AMAZING class. So amazing that Jacqui is in competition for being my favourite teacher with Samantha after only one class with her. My muscles were a bit sore and her class stretched the shit out of me. There was lots of plank yes, but I actually felt strong and capable. And I could touch my toes. Again! Yee! At the end of the class she said that she hoped that our bodies felt energised but calm and our minds felt strong & focused. And I must say, that's exactly how I felt. I have been having a bit of a "down" week but this class tweaked something good inside me. Not enough to have me skipping down the street but enough to make me keen for more of this feeling, and keen for more yoga. Bring it on.

I am as fierce as this yoga cat right now man.

Day 17: Hell Yeah

2011-10-17T20:55:00.000-07:00

Tonight's Hatha class started off with looooots of talking. Then the poses began and the instructor didn't demonstrate any of them just talked us through all the poses. It wasn't as bad as the extreme talker the other night but I instantly thought, great, we have another talker ladies and gentlemen. But actually I really liked her class in the end. She did a few poses that I had never done before so I liked the variety. One of them being standing on tippy toes. That's bloody harder than it sounds man. Anyone can stand on their tippy toes, but hold it for a bit and you can feel the challenge. Leg strain galore.

But the best thing about the whole class was that I touched my toes for the first time in FOREVER! It was well into the class so I was all stretched out and normally I bend my legs during the forward fold poses, and I just decided to straighten my legs and my hands didn't move! Granted I was only touching them ever so slightly but touching them still. Hell yeah! The bendiness has begun!

Day 16: New favourite teacher

2011-10-17T20:34:00.000-07:00

Samantha is my new favourite teacher. I think she's the only instructor I've had more than once and I've now been to her class 3 times. Her Hatha classes have a good balance of challenging poses and ones that make you feel relaxed and centred. One of the things I also like about her is that her demeanour is the same during the class as it is after. One thing that I've encountered a few times is that the instructors all talk with a soothing, calm, warm zen type voice. With this you imagine that they are the nicest, most open people in the whole world! Healers! carer! Probably best friends with the Dalai Lama.

Then a few times I've said something to them after the class, asked them a question about a pose, told them that I enjoyed the class and it's totally weird but I have been getting weird, dare I say bitchy, vibes from some of the instructors! How dare I speak to them! It's almost like they look me up and down and roll their eyes at me! Bah!

So far, Samantha is the only one that is completely approachable. I shall save all my yoga questions for her methinks.

Day 15: Mind Fuck yoga

2011-10-15T21:53:00.000-07:00

Tonights Hatha class was a little annoying. I pretty much have a different instructor every time I go to a class as I vary my times and studios that I go to, they always seem to be different. Note to self: I will not go back to this instructor. She did not demonstrate one single pose. She walked around the class the whole time talking us through the poses. Some might like this but for me, it meant she was talking the whole time telling us to concentrate on a million different things. I am still a little sick and have been having a sad couple of days so wasn't really in the mood to be confused. She was all like, bend at the hips, heart out, tailbone back, hips square, feet parallel to the side of the mat, what am I, a mathemetician, I am trying to keep my damn hips square, stop confusing me, draw your heels together, wtf, actually or theoretically??, draw heels into the ground, toes up, weight on the balls of your feet, isn't this contradictory? I was like, for godsake woman, you are doing my head in!

And we did about 1000 plank poses. I am hopeless at plank pose and am reminded of this as I am the only person in the whole class that has to drop their knees mid plank for a bit of a rest. Totally weak.

Even bloody kermit can do plank pose!

Day 12,13 & 14: ReCap

2011-10-15T21:35:00.000-07:00

Have been absent from blog posting the past few days as I've been sick and all I've been doing is, work, yoga then bed. These were the first days that it has been a struggle going to a yoga class. All I have wanted to do was be in bed. But after draging my sorry ass in there I have definately felt better for going.

Day 12, Wednesday: I did a 7am class as I had a work event in the evening. It was a Hatha class and it was kinda weird to get out of cosy comfy relaxing bed to just go to a hatha class and get relaxed again. I was relaxed before god dammit but I was in my jammies! wtf! So I can definately see the benefit of doing a more active class like Vinyasa Power Flow for the early morning class, at least it gets you pumped for the day.

Day 13, Thursday: I had just mentioned to someone that I had only had female yogis so far so I was excited to see that the class I wanted to go to after work was a hatha class with Peter. Peter reminded me of my friend Tula's partner Mark, so it was funny to be instructed by him. Canadian Mark. Not much different really to the women instructors, perhaps a little bit of a faster pace.

Day 14, Friday: strangely continuing the theme of male instructors, my Friday Hatha class was also instructed by a guy yogi that looked like a surfer. It's interesting to see the guys that are yogis, the girls all look pretty typical, turquoise jewellery, soft voices, warm smiles. I don't have a cliche what a man yogi should look like so they are pretty fascinating. This guy could have been a snowboard instructor.

I expected to struggle through all these classes feeling so ill, and I admit a few times, in down faced dog I felt like I could probably vommie but in the end I felt pretty good afterwards. Any fatigue I felt in the first week has subsided and I think this week can be characterised by me feeling a bit bendier. I feel stiff in the beginning of class and I am suprised how much bendier I feel by the end of the class.

My new boss told me that he did yoga once, it was called BROGA. He said it was the first and last time he ever did yoga. A bunch of gross men in a room all farting in their down faced dogs.

AKA Broga

Day 11: The hoarder

2011-10-11T22:10:00.001-07:00

Todays hatha class was packed. Bumper to bumper yoga traffic I tell ya. I arrived and I could only see one space left at the front of the class, right in front of the teacher. I don't mind this, I must be a bit of a teachers pet at heart and like it when I can see exactly what she is doing and she can also see me to correct any dodgy movements. I sit down and try to find somewhere to put my props and the lady next to me, oh my god, she had all her shit round her mat like she was setting up camp for the summer. There are shelves at the back of the room for people to put their shiz, and no-one ever has anything at their mats, but for some reason, all her shiz was with her. Surrounding her on her mat were the following items:

Handbag
Mobile Phone
A pile of necklaces
A pair of socks
Tissues
A ziplock bag full of lollies (I kid you not),
A cardigan
All the props (3 blocks, a blanket, a bolster and a strap)

Holy shit man, way to ruin any chance of serenity. She kept pressing her phone on to check for action the whole time making the light come on and when we were doing down face dog it actually started ringing but she couldn't see it cause her head was down in the dog. Crazy hoarder mofo.

I simply cannot believe I am on day 11 of this challenge. I thought it would be hard to do yoga, or anything, every single day, but it has actually been a bit of a freedom to have no question about whether or not I am going to do something. Without the luxury of being able to ask myself whether I feel like doing it or not I don't even question it and in the end it's not difficult. Clearly I need to be tricked with a competitive challenge to do anything regularly! I can't wait to see how I am after 40 days! I hope I feel bendy!

My sister Jody told me this story about a friend of a friend in Indonesia that bought a dog online, it grew, and grew, and grew, at an alarming rate and then... it stood up! Um, it was then that she realised it was not a dog but it was in fact a baby bear. We have decided that we want to go to Indonesia and buy 2 baby bears named, bearsy and bearso. It has to be 2 cause they look adorable when they wrestle. Mine is bearso and I am going to teach it yoga.

Inhale bearso, lengthen your spine.

Day 10: I think I'm getting stretchier

2011-10-11T16:26:00.003-07:00

Day 10 and at the beginning of the Hatha class I thought F*ck I am STILL tight and unflexible, you'd think after 10 days straight doing this sh#t I would have loosened up by now! But after the first few initial poses I must have losened up and I felt a significant change. It wasn't really that I was more flexible or anything I just felt a "movement" in the stretches that has never been there before. Like I could go significantly further quite quickly in each of the poses whereas before I would do a pose and that was it, I'm in the pose and that's where I stay. I got in the pose and a few moments later I could push it quite a bit further... interesting phenomenon.

This is my new favourite pose. Lordy that shiz feels good in the hips.

So todays yoga teacher was a bit annoying. First of all she started the class off by saying "One of the things that I'm really interested in at the moment, and something that I have been reading alot about is buddhism" She then pauses for a long time. I probably shouldn't be so mean but HELLO CLICHE. And she said it all in a way that made me think she was going to say something really out of the ordinary like, "one of the things I am really interested in is how some jihadists in pakistan really find solace in yoga after a hard day in the bomb lab". A yogi that is into buddhism...oooh you're sooooooo unique lady. But anyway, I forgave her cause then she started talking about something that resonated with me. I googled the words and found the shit she was referring to:

This word ‘emptiness’ — SHUNYATA — has been very much misunderstood by people, because the word has a connotation of negativity. Whenever we hear the word ‘empty’ we think of something negative. In Buddha’s language, emptiness is not negative; emptiness is absolutely positive, more positive than your so-called fullness, because emptiness is full of freedom; everything else has been removed. It is spacious; all boundaries have been dropped. It is unbounded — and only in an unbounded space, freedom is possible. His emptiness is not ordinary emptiness; it is not only absence of something, it is a presence of something invisible.

This sense of emptiness being a good thing, that it creates a spaciousness and a freedom was interesting to me. It is pretty much how I feel at the moment. Having a broken heart and being on your own again there is a pretty overwhelming constant sense of emptiness. It is pretty common to then try and fill this feeling of emptiness with something, a rebound fling, distractions, drinking, throwing your self into a project. But it is healthier to try and be at one with your emptiness and even appreciate it. Make it into a positive feeling of freedom and spaciousness instead of negative nothingness.

Deep man. Totally deep.

You know who else is deep?

Ha! You put dog yoga into google and dog yoda comes up. Funny.

Day 8&9: Saturday & Sunday

2011-10-09T18:32:00.000-07:00

Will write about these 2 days together cause I am stuck for time. Have spent the whole weekend indoors trying to get my assignment done that is due on Monday morning. Sunday night 6pm - still working on it. All I have done is study, eat and gone to yoga. I haven't even showered once!

Saturdays class was hatha. I went with my new flatmate and we both really enjoyed the class, it was very chilled out and my back was thanking me afterwards. Sooooo long sitting in a chair writing my assignment. The flatmate liked the class so much she was thinking of joining the studio, she went to work today and told her boss how much she loved the yoga class and her boss informed her that a 3 month perk of the job (it's a new job) is a membership to said yoga studio. She is amazed by this and feel like the universe has sent her a sign!

Todays class was another hatha but this one was a little more active. I like the more active hatha classes. Feels momentarily like you are improving. Though on a whole I still feel exactly the same as when I started. You would think I could get my head closer to the floor in childs pose after 9 days straight of doing it.

My head does not reach the floor like it should. It hovers over the top of my legs...

I am a little teary today. Probably cause it's thanksgiving here and people are celebrating and having yummy dinners with loved ones and I am stuck indoors doing my assignment and don't have any loved ones here anyway even if I wasn't. Stupid Thanksgiving.

Day 7: Feel the serenity

2011-10-07T21:16:00.000-07:00

Just did a Yin class and it was probably the most relaxing Yin yet. A mere 7 poses in 1h 15m and holding them each for ages! I feel like I got a good stretch in though and now feel like I have given my body a good rest. I am ready for something more active tomorrow for sure. Walking the 10 blocks home from yoga I saw a car speeding up the street and thought how good it feels not to be in a rush. Just me by my lonesome and feeling good to be going at my own pace strolling down the street.

It may also be a miracle if I don't get sprayed by a skunk walking this route back to my house. I saw a skunk the other day and tonight one popped out it front of me on the path. They are so cute but if I accidently startle one I be in deep trouble.

I don't think even the febreeze will save ya lil kitty.

Day 6: 6.15am class = Commitment

2011-10-06T10:44:00.001-07:00

What I am committed to is undecided. I did a Vinyasa Power Flow class this morning at 6.15am before work. Not because I love getting up early but because I have plans to go out tonight, I don't want to miss out on a fun night just for yoga, so I drag my sorry ass out of bed at 5.55am. I think this means my commitment lies in drinking and nothing will keep me from the sweet elixir.

So I noticed it a little in last night's Yin class but it was blatantly obvious to me in this mornings class. I have hit a wall. I think my muscles are fatigued cause I feel like I am struggling with the poses more than I have been before. I feel weak and stiff. We did alot of balancing poses this morning and I was all over the shop. Maybe the classes before we're easier and I didn't notice how shit I am? Who knows. But you would think I would feel stronger and looser, no. Not the case. As I did todays class at 6.15am, I won't do my next class till late tomorrow night. This might give my body a little break. We'll see if that does the trick.

In the meantime I will go out tonight and have fun with my favourite saffa and her crew. I may do a bit of savasana when I get home.

It's me on the left silly!

Day 5: Namastiness

2011-10-05T22:48:00.000-07:00

I have actually done yoga quite a few times before this little stint but this time I feel like I am really doing yoga. All I can put it down to is, when you are feeling quite low you really recognise the things that make you feel good and the difference they make within is quite large cause when low, there is lots of potential for a myriad of feelings that are a million time better than where you are.

My friend Rachel wrote me an email and used the word namastiness, she was talking about namaste and feeling my namastiness but to me namastiness sounded like nastiness and I like the mix of words. I do have lots of bad feelings inside at the moment and one of them is nastiness for sure. Ben has sent me a couple of text messages that have been a bit bizarro, the last one ended with "Happy new beginnings Perko!" Which clearly indicates that he has just opened a bottle of champagne and is blissfully celebrating our breakup just like it is new years fucking eve. This sort of of stuff makes me feel like shit and I bipolar disorder from feeling hurt, sad, angry and murderous at any given moment. Anyway, there is a yoga point to all of this. One thing yoga has been good for is practising turning all of the "nastiness" I feel into a bit of "namaste". You learn how to breathe through a challenging pose just like you learn to breathe through any bad feelings that enter into your body and mind. And trust me, bad feelings enter through your body, you feel it in your guts, your throat and/or your chest. You learn to feel it coming in and learn to try to let it back out again. There is no room for any nastiness in my body, it's poison. I don't have to like Ben's text message but I also don't want it to eat me up inside. It's just me now and I am all I should be concerned with. It's not easy to do but it really does make you feel better.

I did Yin yoga tonight, it was at 8.30pm and it's the relaxing one where you hold simple stretches but for long periods of time. It was an excellent type of yoga for what I needed today, no more namastiness here.... for now.

So can I yoga cat, so can I.

Day 4: I can't even remember what I did in yoga tonight.

2011-10-04T21:13:00.000-07:00

Tonights Hatha class was pretty relaxing. It was the most chilled out Hatha class I have done and it was kinda welcome today. I can't even remember what moves we did or anything that stood out in the class. this could be because afterwards I got a massage and I am so relaxed from the relaxing yoga and the relaxing massage that the brain has stopped working and I just want to go to bed now please.

I keep finding these pics of yoga dogs and they make me laugh, I think I might be turning into one of those cat/dog blog people.

How could you not love this lil fella though:

You know what comes after this pose don't you? That's right. Downward dog.

Day: 3. Lengthen the spine-ah

2011-10-03T21:05:00.000-07:00

Let it be said that I have NEVER done any exercise consecutively 3 days in a row. I have already hit a personal best! Yay for me!

Hatha today. I like that no 2 hatha classes are really the same. Depends on the teacher and where they decide to focus on that particular day. Todays teacher wore jeans to class (wtf!) as she said she couldn't be bothered to change into yoga pants. Totally weird. And she spoke at the start of the class and her voice was all normal but when she got into the class her voice started to change and went from being normal to dramatic and deep and she would end her words with an extended ah! not aaaah but more like ah! So instead of saying breathe she would say breathe - ah! Lengthen the spine - ah! It got kinda humorous to me and I wonder if anyone else noticed it. But her crazy speech was forgiven cause her class was really challenging, lots of core work and hip stretching. Hip stretching! Hallelujiah! I didn't even know my hips were tense but holy jesus they felt good to be stretched out. And the plank. The plank kills me. If I can comfortably do a plank by the end of the 40 days I shall buy myself a pony. I can do them now but I have to put my knees down in the middle and I feel like I may die of a burst aneurysm during it.

On my walk home I went and had a look at the view across the street from my new apartment. It was a nice chilly Vancouver afternoon. A nice view to end my yoga session before heading in for the night.

Day 2: Ouch my knee

2011-10-02T20:17:00.000-07:00

Today I did a hatha class which I really enjoyed. One thing that is a bit of a pain in the ass though is my sore knee. I completely stacked it while carrying my bed into the new place. Fell off the side of the path to the front door, dropped the bed into the bushes and scraped my knee against the concrete. It got bloody and bruised and I cannot put any pressure on it. So it's makes a few poses in hatha impossible. I hope it heals quick.

My body was a bit tender from the yoga yesterday, mainly in the back of my legs and arms (damn kundalini arm waving) so all the stretching poses actually felt really good, and afterwards I felt jolly and nimble. I was running late to get to the class and I rushed there so I also really enjoyed the relaxing breathing poses to get me to feel centred again. It's funny, the "savasana" the last pose you do in yoga, which is basically lying flat while they put soothing music on, was a pose that used to make me anxious. I didn't like sitting still like that. It felt un-natural and forced. But now I love it. It's kinda weird and I could easily do that at home (I don't), but in that environment after the whole class it's a great way to end and I really feel myself feeling light and relaxed.

This is what Savasana looks like. This lil doggie is lovin it!

Day 1: It's not very namaste to hate the instructors.

2011-10-02T09:03:00.002-07:00

The move out of the apartment was horrible and am really glad it's over. I literally left our apartment for the last time after moving all day and went straight to the first yoga class. To kick off the challenge there was a special class for people embarking on the 40 days. It was a class that included all 4 types of yoga offered at the studio, yin, hatha, vinyasa & kundalini and instructed by 4 different people. So here is my rundown:

Yin: is the relaxing yoga, deep stretches held for longer periods. Nice. I've been to Yin a few times before and I quite like the style. The classes I've been to are usually the last ones held at night and they dim the lights. I have slept like a baby after these classes.

Hatha: is more posey, doing the typical yoga moves but in a relaxing way that concentrates on making sure your posture is correct and you hold your pose with strength and precision.

These two types of yoga were no surprise in todays class. I have never done the other types of yoga before and quite frankly they were a little bit whack.

Vinyasa: To start off the the instructor annoyed the hell out of me. She was like an american game show host who tried to shove her namaste down your throat in her tone of voice and dramatic way she expressed the poses. If you can imagine a cheerleader instructing yoga, that's what it would be like. I didn't mind the vinyasa style per se, a more active version of hatha but I shall experiment with another instructor before I make any final judgement thanks.

Kundalini: well, fucking hell, this shit was ridiculous. The instructor was so tanned she seriously looked like a burns victim and I really try to love all people and their choices in life but I just don't know why you would fry your skin like that, I lose respect for you, you tell me to make a commitment to myself and my physical, mental and emotional health and you are a fried chicken wing? Lady please. And I haven't even started on the yoga yet. It basically involved some movements where you squatted then stood and screamed some crazy language, another movement reminiscent of the New Zealand haka (bro) and then about 15 minutes of dance music straight from DCM circa 1996 where she instructed crazy jumping, dancing and hand waving. I got into it, cause there really was no choice but seriously, I can already tell kundalini is not my thing, I thought I was going to tear a ligament in my arm with so much hand waving. And this was just for 20 minutes. Imagine a class that goes for an hour!

I did feel good afterwards though. Before the class my spine felt a little pinched from carrying things in the move but afterwards it felt good.

40 Days of Yoga. Holy Sh*t!

2011-09-30T09:33:00.003-07:00

I read a quote today that resonated a bit with me.

It may be that when we no longer know what to do, we have come to our real work and when we no longer know which way to go, we have begun our real journey. Wendell Berry.

In this stage of my life I would have imagined that I would be thinking of things like this.

Babies and a committed relationship. Big meringue wedding dress NOT!

But instead I am currently trying to recover from the most painful breakup of my life thus far and wondering where the hell I am. It has really hit me like a cricket bat to the face, I put alot of blind faith into our relationship and never really imagined that it would end like this.

I have been hitting a few yoga classes and I have found they make me feel centred, relaxed and they help me sleep better, which is troublesome for me at the moment. So when I saw the ad for The 40 Day Yoga Challenge, a very Vancouver thing to do, which starts the day I move out of our apartment, I thought it was a bit of a sign for me. The ad said:

Yogic science confirms that it takes 40 days to fully develop a new life-promoting habit or to drop a current destructive habit. The Semperviva Challenge is a great way to strengthen the body, unburden the mind, and begin a daily commitment to yourself.

In 40 days, you can create a whole new way of being.

It was clearly speaking directly to me. And what the hell else do I have to do? I would like to create a whole new way of being cause I certainly don't like where I'm at right now. Being sad sucks balls.

I hope to achieve some abs, an unburdened mind and get happy god dammit.

My good friend Amanda D requested that I blog my way through the 40 days of yoga just so she had something fun to read on her new iPad. She has been a good friend to me so I have decided that I will do just that. So hastamananabanana is back.

So I start tomorrow. And I shall try and blog every day.

Namaste. I'm kidding. God I feel like a wanker when I say that.

New Job and Wine in pants

2010-07-25T00:25:00.000-07:00

I am FINALLY gainfully employed. Got the perfect job, 8 month contract in a big company in downtown Vancouver. Good hours, 20 minutes door to door and just enough time there to work out what the hell I'm doing in 2011.

Soooooo many months of unemployment (ok only 3 but felt like forever) and I was beginning to think I would NEVER get a job. The drawn out interview process was painful and made me feel like I was being considered for a job with the U.N. B is a Radiographer, he administers radiation to humans, he injects toxic dye into people's veins, he assists surgeons in operations and helps them locate shit. He arrived in Vancouver, called up the hospital closest to where we live and they hired him OVER THE PHONE. Oh this boy sounds like a nice lad, lets get him in tomorrow and hope he doesn't kill someone. No fucking worries. So me, Graphic Designer, I just make words and pictures pretty, the closest I could come to killing someone would be to spill my cup of tea on them coming back from the lunch room while they have their finger in an electrical socket, not likely but possible. So for this job first of all I had to apply online, not just attaching a CV, but copying and pasting all my info into their online form, which is time consuming, takes a good half an hour and when you've applied for 1000 jobs like this you really do want to stab yourself in the eyeballs. Then I had to fill out an online questionnaire. Then I got called to do a telephone interview. Then I got offered a real life interview. I had the interview. I was having a really bad hair day. I thought for sure I didn't get the job. Who would hire someone with hair like this? But seems on this day, bad hair worked for me cause I got offered a 2nd interview. Then there are reference checks to be done. So much waiting! Such a PROCESS! Anyone would think I was going for a job as the CEO. Don't get me wrong, I am really happy to have been given this job, but B could kill someone and he got offered a job over the phone. Totally. Not. Fair.

Something else that is totally not fair is the fact that I discovered this item AFTER we went to the Sasquatch festival.

Sasquatch! Festival. USA.

So we went to said music festival in the U.S of A, you can't take drinks in and bags get searched at the entrance, pretty standard. There was music and this scene was just screaming for a nice bottle of red to be enjoyed on the grassy knolls. So we put a whole bottle of red wine into 2 separate zip lock bags and B put one in the front of his pants and one in the back. Bit of a padded out man package and extra junk in the trunk, it was flawless. Once inside and set up on a grassy knoll we busted out the zip locks however there were a few security walking around and I wanted to be extra incognito, I decided to put our cups in B's shoes so as to camouflage the red liquid. Here is a pic of us looking completely innocent.

Just your average couple havin a drink from a shoe. Nothing to see here.

I mean, it was a great heist, but life would have been so much easier if I had of had the bad boy below, actually we would have been so much drunker as we could of doubled up then, Ben would have had a giant package filled with wine (every woman's fantasy) and I would have had me the cleavage I have been after for so long… One happy couple…

The Wine Rack.

You can put a whole bottle of wine in this thing and there is a handy tube to put straight in your cup! And she looks so damn happy, as you would if you were sporting this bra. Look at my beautiful bazookas AND their ability to conceal this lovely bottle of red. I love this. It's on the birthday wish list.

RIP Original white onsie

2010-06-17T15:24:00.001-07:00

You wanna see the original white onsie as talked about in my previous post? The one that B wore while teaching small children to snowboard on "Onsie Wednesday", when the ass blew out in them and small children saw his undies?

RIP Original White Onsie.

B's bum is pooky, but not that pooky in real life. That is one tight ass onsie.

PS. How can one image make you love someone more and at the same time wonder why you love them? Hmm.

Smashin fashion on the slopes

2010-06-16T21:31:00.001-07:00

My sister and her husband came to visit a few weeks back. Obviously, the first thing we did was take them out for a "Caesar" at a local bar, aptly named The Local. For those of you fortunate enough to know what a Caesar is, its a purely Canadian concoction made from vodka, clamato juice and chilli, the glass is celery salt rimmed and adorned with, in this case, an olive, a mini stick of salami and a bean. What is clamato juice you ask? When I first heard this word I thought it was made up. It is not made up, it is for realz, and it is tomato juice mixed with clam juice. Clams, as in, from the sea. Those yummy bivalve molluscs usually consumed in a pasta or with white wine & garlic. In Canada they drink their foaming juice, mixed with vodka, in a cocktail. Gross you say? Hellz no. Clamato juice is yummy! Especially yummy when consumed in a glass shaped like a boot!

Actually, this isn't the first time my sister has encountered a Ceasar. Before we left Sydney we had a party and made a few Caesars for our most treasured guests. Unfortunately we couldn't get our hands on any clams so B decided to substitute clams with mussels. Molluscs! They're all the same! So he foamed up some mussels and mixed up the most badass Musselato Caesar Sydney had ever seen. The day after the party, whilst out on our balcony, I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw what looked to be vommit in our basil plant. The party was good but it wasn't that good. On later inspection I found the dried, crustyness to be a Caesar! Someone had poured their caesar into my basil plant!!!! A few weeks later, my sister sneakily questioned if my basil plant had a recent, un-natural growth spurt. She poured her Caesar into my basil plant! Bitch! She confessed that yes, although the beverage was septic liquid, she was actually attempting an experiment where the strange ingredients in a Caesar would cause our herbs to grow out of control. Like hulk basil or something. She is ~~dim~~ a smart girl. But she was serious. Anyhoo, I made her drink another one, a proper one in Canada, in a boot. And she loved it.

We took a trip up to Whistler for a day of skiing/snowboarding. I had no idea that the trip to Whistler would be so beautiful! We drove along the coastline and had views like this most of the way! So many islands that line the coast from Vancouver. I spent the whole time with my camera out of the window trying to capture the beauty. Landscape photography at 120 km/h isn't as hard as it looks! Got me some stellar shots and we didn't even waste a minute on the road.

This day of snow action was to be the last day of season for us and the day that THE onesie, was to be unveiled. I ended up wearing B's onsie from a few years back and Ben wore my onsie that I bought from the Salvos for $10.

Behold, the onsie.

Look at her, so shiny! So lavender! So cinched at the waist! She has gold lining btw. Plush gold lining. Mmmm comfy.

Why did B wear my onsie? Look into his crutch area. He is a snowboarding bullfighter in this one, and the lavender one was worse. It was to protect the future existence of our offspring.

B, who actually pioneered the onsie idea, having sported them for quite a few years on the slopes, first owned a crisp white onesie. He partook in "Onsie Wednesday" and taught small children to snowboard in it. Until one day, while teaching small children, the ass blew out, and small children saw his undies. RIP original white onsie.

During the search for excellent onsies, we came across some other choice pieces. Some for the low price of $2! So, as my sister and husband were not planning to hit the slopes, they had nothing to wear. But don't worry, we had them sorted. And we had something very special planned for my sisters husband. Now, you have to understand something about my sisters husband, he is damn good fun, but out of the 2 of them, my sister is the more outlandish one, she is the one more likely to enjoy embaressing herself, and he more likely to sit back, glass of Gewürztraminer in hand and ~~mock~~ laugh at my sisters antics. So we were quite shocked that he agreed to wear this:

Behold the brightest 2 piece you'll ever see on a man unless you time travel back to 1983.

And not only did he wear this, he wore it with style. He strutted around the slopes like he had been wearing blinding pink pants his whole damn life. B & I thought our onsies would be more popular, but in the ski village, it went like this, (true example); Someone saw me and exclaimed, "sweet onsie" then they see B, "oooh, man onsie, sweeeeeeeeet" THEN they see my sisters husband and they scream "WooHooo. WINNER!"

My sister was not wearing anything outlandish, she got the bottom of the barrel outfit. She did enough on the slopes to embaress herself with her skiing style. She's ballsy, I'll give her that, she did try a "jump" encouraged by B and then fell big. On her face. It was sweeeeeet.

In Canada my hair doesn't have low self esteem.

2010-05-26T22:28:00.008-07:00

When I was living in Australia my sister stayed over one night and while she was having a shower she shouted out to me "Jesus Christ, your shampoo has low self esteem!" She was right, my shampoo did have low self esteem, it was for "normal, dull and lifeless hair"! My poor hair! Normal could be a good thing, but teamed with adjectives such as dull and lifeless, normal means boring, and normal ain't good. And the other thing was, after using this shampoo for a long time, my hair actually liked it, but would my hair EVER not be dull and lifeless, shouldn't prolonged use make my hair shiny and bouncy? This shampoo was taking me for a ride. I would never break free of this psychologically abusive relationship.

In the end, all I needed to do was move to Canada. Here, my hair is free, my hair is happy and no one is talking smack about my hair. In Canada, the same version of my shampoo, is for "normal hair that needs body". Well that's a little nicer, normal, but with just a little bit o body. Throw a bit of that Canadian optimism into it! Advertising that doesn't drive you to drink! My hairs feels so much better about itself now.

And Canada is so gay friendly! They even have milk especially for homos! I love homos, so I always make sure I buy this milk. And every morning when I get the milk out for my cereal I say "Yay for homos!"

It's not cold yet, but when you are not used to fashion in sub zero temperatures you have to keep an eye out for interestings items. This is on my fashion "wish list" for 2010. I found this on the internet but can't seem to find where to buy it!? Maybe I need to learn how to knit. I must have this!

So many of my friends are pregnant right now, when looking for interesting gifts online I came across this gem.

You CANNOT sit there and tell me this doesn't look like the comfiest, happiest baby you've ever seen. And Mums looks happy too! Everyone wins! Don't you just want to smooch this little alien right on it's freaky white forehead?? I sure do!

Craigslist

2010-05-13T14:51:00.002-07:00

The biggest north american discovery so far has been craigslist... pretty sure it exists in Sydney and Spain but it seems to be bigger here. I am mildly obsessed with the "free" section and love looking at what goodies people want to get rid of. It's especially good as it seems, like in Sydney, the city charity stores here charge crazy prices for crappy second hand goods. Just cause it's pre loved don't make it an antique people, or retro, or worth more than you would pay for the same thing new in shops. My previous list of salvation army bargains was from a suburban store, where you could still find plenty of bargains. Any store closer to the city seems to be run by people smoking crack and their prices are completely whack (rhymes). But now that we live here, and are without car, furniture at the suburban salvos is out of the question. Yes I live near the city, but I am still poor, and only here for a year or so, and Craigslist "free" has become my new live in lover.

Sometimes craigslist can turn against you. This happens when your boyfriend finds a "free" TV that is so large, so ugly and so offensive to all your senses, yet he thinks it's cool. Then one day when you are out trying to get a job to feed the family, he goes and gets it, and when you get home it is there, hurting your eyes and confirming that any coolness you once had is now obsolete. I present you, the TV.

Yes that's me standing next to the TV so you have an idea of size. Yes the remote control next to the nintendo is the same width as my head. Yes that is an old style nintendo, with super mario bros that we actually paid money for, cause apparently nintendo is retro and you do have to pay for that shiz, but it's cheap entertainment. Yes that is me in a onsie 80s ski suit, looking pretty proud of myself cause $10 for that thing was a serious bargain.

Probably the worst thing about the TV is the fact that it doesn't actually work unless you are playing super mario bros. Seems that when B got the thing home, turned it on, there were no channels, and then some Canadians tell us that you don't get free TV! You have to pay for cable TV along with your internet. Well, we don't actually watch much TV and really only wanted the thing to play super mario bros. So we won't pay for TV cause we hardly watch it, but then what is the damn point of having such a giant TV I ask you? There is no point. And B is better than me at Mario, and I am a sore loser. Stupid TV.

Canadians are so damn nice!

2010-05-05T15:37:00.000-07:00

I don't think I've ever been anywhere where you encounter such random acts of kindness on such a regular basis. Most of the countries I've travelled to people are mostly pretty friendly, but Canadians, well, they win the nice race. From day 1 things have been happening that make me go, wow, that's really nice! Crazy nice strangers!

When we arrived in Vancouver we were going to stay at B's friends place, she wasn't going to be home till that afternoon so we made our way slowly over to her place, with our mountain of baggage. B had a suitcase on wheels, 1 giant snowboard bag about 2metres long on wheels, and carried a backpack, camera bag and a manbag* on his body. (*man handbag) I had 1 giant suitcase, 1 large suitcase, 1 sml suitcase (attached crazily by B, god knows how, to the lrg suitcase) and a backpack. We really pushed our baggage allowance and so in total we were carrying approx 60kilos each. Yes this is alot of baggage. As we were walking it started raining. Seconds later a guy and his Dad pull over in a big van, "You guys are crazy, those bags look heavy, can we drop you wherever you're going?" I wouldn't normally accept a lift from strangers but they looked completely sincere, and I knew it would be fine. 70 yr old dad even helped lift the bags up! They left us with a little "Welcome to Vancouver!" So nice!

Money is tight, well tight for us who never really want for anything, so after food shopping one day and B says to me, "wanna spend our last $12 on a bottle of wine?" and I say "hell yeah!" we go into a bottle shop. This bottle shop was a little bit more posh than we've seen and everything seems way out of our price range. The salesperson asks to help us and we say, we'd like a local bottle of red for $12 or under... and we show her, our last $12. (God we are such deros!) So she proceeds to point out her favourite bottle of local red, which she says is delicious, but as it is out of our budget she will knock the price down to $12 just so we can try it. So nice!

Cars stop for you so you can cross the road. I'm not talking about at lights or crossings, where they have to stop anyway, I'm talking about normal roads, the cars just stop in the middle of the road if they see you want to cross and they let you pass! Even if there are cars behind them, and the cars behind don't even bip them! It's such a nice feeling to not have the cars rule the roads so much! So nice!

Bus drivers are nice, they say good morning to you. If there is a customer service misunderstanding people say, I'm sorry, it must have been my fault even though the blame may be unclear. People apologise for not knowing if I am from Australia or New Zealand (I say "hey don't worry, you sound American to me!). The Ferry people open the doors for people with bikes. The greyhound bus guy gave us student rates without even asking!

And... the buses also cheer for the Canucks. (Vancouver ice hockey team currently in the playoffs)

Seriously people. This is one nice country! Yay Canada!

Real Life Vancouver

2010-04-23T12:00:00.010-07:00

So here we are in Vancouver, staying in temp accomm in a share house. Which is actually quite good. It's really cheap and we can stay here as short or as long as we like. The other people who live here are never in the house and when they are they stay in their rooms (we must stink!) and no one cooks except for us so the kitchen is ours ours ours! It has fast wireless internet connection and it's perfect for interim accommodation.

We wanted to move in to our own place eventually, and after only a day looking in the area we want, we found a place we liked. The actual apartment is pretty ghetto, (faux wooden cupboards in the kitchen and a lavender colored toilet) but there is a balcony off the lounge room which has views of both the whole city of Vancouver as well as the surrounding mountains.

Not the actual view from our apartment, we haven't moved in yet. but it's close enough minus the water. City & mountains...pretty!

So we put in an application and as we don't have jobs yet, they accepted, but on the condition we pay 2 months rent + security upfront. We really wanted this place so we said yes, even though this absolutely wipes us out money wise and means we have to get jobs asap. The pressure is on. Oh and the other thing, it's unfurnished, so somehow, with no money, we have to make the house livable. All apartments here come with a fridge and a laundry room with washer & dryer, so thank god for that. We will eventually land jobs, we are sure of it, but we accepted the fact that all our initial furniture would have to come from the Salvation Army (Salvos in aussie speak) and that we will have to live like mini squatters in our own house. We are quite looking forward to living like squatters. I love me some novelty home livin.

So in preparation for the squat house we have been frequenting the local Salvos to pick up some cheap stuff for our new place, as unemployed people we really have nothing much else to do and this is the highlight of our day. We have vowed that until we get jobs we won't buy anything expensive and will make do with what we find. This is a good idea in theory but have you ever been to a Salvos? There is so much cool shit there that isn't always what you "need" per se. Also B and I have never really been known as being the most sensible people in the world, nor have we been known for always spending our money "wisely". So this is a list of all of the items we now own for our new house. Keep in mind that we arrived with only suitcases filled with clothes and snowboard gear.

1. A foam mattress. A little bit moldy (given to us by B's friend)

A few things we bought when we thought we'd get jobs in 1 day and before we realized we were very poor.

2. sheets
3. quilt
4. quilt cover
5. pillows
6. 2 towels
7. 2 forks (no one said you can't use a fork as a spoon)

Sensible you say, yes we are quite sensible. Read on.

8. expensive chef's knife*

*B loves to cook, if there is one thing that makes him furious it's cooking with blunt knives. We are poor, and B convinces me that we need to buy a chef's knife in order to survive. I am easily convinced, I too hate cooking with blunt knives. So we buy a chef's knife. Japanese made, Damascus steel. It's amazing. "It's our last luxury purchase!" we say, sensible from now on. Seconds after using the knife for the first time, probably because he has been used to using blunt knives, B slices his finger open, I swear, literally the first cut of the blade was the carrot the second was his flesh, there was blood, it's was a deep cut from a good knife, we turn the share house upside down looking for bandages/anticeptic cream/band aids, there is nothing. We then have to wrap the finger up and walk to the late night pharmacy and spend money that we don't have, on bandaids and cream. $15. We could have bought cups with that! Damn knife!

Then we started going to the salvos. These are our newly acquired possessions.

9. retro orange plastic measuring cup
10. cool square measuring cup
11. cool retro blender
Yes that's right, not one but 2 measuring cups, and the retro blender also has measurements on it's side, so in fact we have 3 recepticals that can measure quantity.

12. Small enamel saucepan made in romania, and I mean small, it's one of those cute mini ones you use for boiling milk or making sauces and has the little spout on the side.

13. Wooden wine rack we cannot afford wine yet

14. Ice skates with purple glittery blade protectors. What? They fit like Cinderella's glass slipper! They were hardly worn! I have ALWAYS wanted my own pair of ice skates! No more daggy blue rental skates like at the Blacktown Ice Rink for this gal, my very own shiny WHITE ones!

15. Pink & Purple checkered Italian suit jacket Seriously, B bought this when I wasn't with him. "It's cool!" he said, "It's Italian"

Wish me luck that job luck comes to me soon... we've gotta stop going to the Salvos.

Rockin Rockies

2010-04-21T15:51:00.012-07:00

Starting in Calgary, the plan was to enjoy a bit of the end of ski season and teach me how to snowboard. B is a pretty good snowboarder and has worked in a couple of different Canadian resorts teaching snowboarding for 4 of the past 5 winters. In preparation he bought me a rockin new Burton snowboard which is so damn pretty but at which I curse expletives as I tumble down many a small hill. I want to know how to snowboard, but I want to already know how to snowboard, learning is so damn tough. I've hit my head (the new helmet has already paid for itself, brain damage no thanks) numerous times, sometimes questioning if I was unconscious but then reaslising if I was I probably wouldn't question that. I'd just be saying, What? Where am I? Who are you? Why do I have this strange board strapped to my feet? Why aren't I at the beach? I've slid across snow on my ass and on my knees. I've fallen flat on my back. I've fallen on my arm. I've fallen where my body is somehow alongside my snowboard and my knee twisted in an alarmingly un-natural position. And this is supposed to be "fun" and I am supposed to be on "holidays".

B pretending to be a human bobsled on the track at Calgary Olympic Park home of the 1988 Winter Olympics.

Ben has been a very patient teacher and I have been a very patient learner. You can see why couples would blow up on the slopes.

Boy says to girl. "Lets have a "holiday" in the snow, I'll teach you, it will be "fun".

Girls says, "Will there be daiquiris and a chance to tan?"

"No" says the boy "but give it a go".

Then girl is hitting her head on something that looks like marshmallow but feels like concrete not once, not twice, but oh about 50 times per day, and flailing about like a newborn calf. There is no energy even for daiquiris at the end of the day and the only tan you get is between your cheeks and your chin. But I am determined, I will learn this god dammit, and I will enjoy it, and I will look cool on the slopes and I will drink schnapps in the lodge after and smile and say "It's nice out eh". Not yet. But I will. It's only going to take a bit more practice and possible serious injury. That's all.

Next stop was Golden, staying at a friend of B's new log cabin. It was absolutely amazing, made entirely of giant logs from Saskatchewan, it has giant windows and overlooks the rockies and is surrounded by big beautiful trees. It's a short drive to Kicking Horse Mountain Resort, where we continued operation steasy* snowboarder. Unfortunately "operation steasy" lasted not even 1 run.

The first run of the day was pretty average, you get up off your ass (which isn't as easy as it looks btw) you start to pendulum (beginner speak) down the slopes, your boyfriend screams "head up!" "hands over the board!" "GET THAT ASS FORWARD" fun holiday time for all, then you stack it.

It's so funny when beginners fall. (hilarious). We just lay there, on our backs, in star position, arms and legs flayed out, just laying there. Not sure why, not sure what we're waiting for, sometimes this can be for a couple of minutes, waiting for a sign maybe, some sort of sign to continue, waiting for the dizziness to subside or the sharp pain running through the coccyx to go away. Anyway, this is our time, we need this for reflection and to gather our thoughts, to get the will to get up and start again.

The rocky mountains, how can you be so pretty yet so evil at the same time?

The mountain, no problem, the mountain can do what it wants to me, but the chairlift, oh how I hate the chairlift. The enemy of every beginner. Why is this part so hard? Essentially it's just like getting up off a chair, except the chair moves, and the chair pushes you, whether you are ready or balanced or not, it pushes you down a short but icey slope, right into the path of 1. people with sharp poles 2. a fence or 3. a wall of snow. It seems to create the kind of chaos only seen at a wedding dress sale and you are more likely than not to fall dramatically into an un-natural and painful position. And to top all that off, you must get up and get away quickly or you will suffer the wrath of the impatient liftie or worse, be crashed into by other angry, frustrated beginners. It's a recipe for disaster I tell you. And it's not funny. (unless you are watching other people do it safely in the distance.) So this is what happened to me, on the second run of the day, I exited the chairlift, lost my balance, fell over, I did a ninja roll, my board did not. I felt my knee twist, I screamed* (*B said I squealed like a pig about to be slaughtered) and lay there, then I said ow ow ow about 5000 times. I crab walked to to side to get out of the way, the liftie got me a blanket and called ski patrol. I was to go back down on the mountain, not looking steasy, but on a ski patrol toboggan. For years, when I saw a ski patrol go past, with the toboggan behind them, with a body in a bag, I used to think someone had died on the mountain and they were bringing their body back down. It looks so creepy. But they strapped my leg up to a wooden board, put me in the little boat, tied me up, all I could see was the sky out of my goggles and the feeling that we were going very very fast. It was so much fun! A definate plus to a fucked up knee! B told me the story of a friend who fell while skiing and she broke 7 ribs, she was picked up by ski patrol who started to take her down the mountain and during the trip something went awry (all signs point to dodgy ski patrol guy) and her toboggan flipped 5 times! And she had broken ribs! Ouch! Luckily this story was told to me afterwards! So my knee was looked at, just a sprain, no more snowboarding for me for a couple of weeks… Kinda happy to give my lil lo body a break.

Very wet ass, from falling so much at the beginning in Calgary on the bunny hill. I heart snowboarding, yeah, like totally.

Next stop Vancouver, where real life begins. Jobs, apartment etc. Looking forward to discovering my new city!

Oh Canada! Oh Saskatoon!

2010-04-18T16:09:00.006-07:00

On arrival at Saskatoon airport it was clear we "weren't from around here". Coming from 35 deg and sunny in Sydney, after a 16 hour flight via Vancouver, we were in T Shirts and comfy floppy pants, as everyone prepared to leave the plane, out came some pretty hardcore looking coats/hats/scarves which made Ben and I look at each other and say, um, "Do you think it's cold out there?" We were in T Shirts for god sake! It was minus 10 degrees outside! Holy crap it was cold! We were met at the airport by my friends Kristie Anne and Lia, both Saskatoonians and both suitably dressed, I was in ballet flats and on exiting the airport I shrieked when snow got inside them. There was snow everywhere! So pretty! Snow in people's front yards! Snow on the side of the road! Snow on the lake! As soon as I got in the car, Kristie Anne told me to flick the switch along side of the automatic window switch to activate the bum warmer! WTF! In seconds my ass was toasty warm! I love this place! So we stayed with my friends Kristie Anne (who I studied spanish with in Sevilla in 2003) and her husband Terri at their giant house. Gotta love having friends that have their shit together and let me stay in their comfy digs!

After much consideration as to what typical Canadian things they would introduce us to we first went to a local ice hockey game, I took some red wine in a "to go" cup to keep warm (excuse) and we saw teenage Canadians slam each other into walls and try to trip each other over with their hockey sticks, fun times.

Terri is from a small town outside S'Town called Wakaw and his parents, who still live there, have the keys to the local curling rink. I'd never even heard of curling before the last winter olympics and I unfairly exclaimed that it was the most ridiculous sport I'd ever seen. So when the opportunity came to play it, when you can normally only get a game if you're affiliated with a curling club, I had to take it up. It was damn fun! But so freakingly bizarre, kinda like bowls, on ice, with a giant marble stone thing* to toss down, and you have to do it while sliding on the ice on one knee. The weirdest part however is that people on your team, run in front of the giant marble stone thing as it slides down the ice and can heat the ice in front of the marble stone thing by scratching these broom type things in front of it to make the marble stone thing slide faster. You also have to wear special things on your shoes. One thing called a slider and the other a griper. Obviously one makes your feet slide and the other grip to assist in a weird type of walking on the ice. I am sure you'd get used to it but I was all over that ice like a newborn calf.

*marble stone thing - correct professional description

After curling, Terri's Mum made us chicken soup and there was a knock at the door, it seems Terri's parents had spread word out that there were some aussie's in town and Ed was here to take us skidooing on the lake! Ed was wearing a lumberjack jacket and had his skidoo on a trailer and was ready to rock, so were we, we drove out to a frozen lake, which he assured us was still 40 inches thick, he dressed us in some ridiculous skidoo suits. Ben looked like a beekeeper and I looked like I was about to be shot out of a canon, I do love that helmet though, pretty cool. We were let loose on the ice alone, we rode together and Ben got the skidoo up to 95kms/h and we were flying across the lake, at one point being chased by a pointy toothed dog! When it was my turn to drive I got it up to a crazy pills 20kms/h! It felt fast! After we couldn't feel our faces from the cold it was time to head home and Ed offered us some whiskey from his hip flask he kept in his jacket pocket, that shit sure warms you up as promised, as it burns down your throat. yum yum.

above: Ha! B looks like he is a beekeeper. I laugh everytime I look at this photo.

In Saskatoon we also spent a night drinking spiced rum (note to self, 2L between 3 people is too much) with a snowboarding buddy of Ben's called Mark over in the ghettos of Saskatoon, we ate, we drank spiced rum and we played rock bank where I was reminded that I should never be in a band, virtual or otherwise as I have no musical skills. what.so.ever. The next day we went to Mark's Mum's house in the country for lunch where there was more food and some dirt biking (why don't these people want to stay inside??) and after discussing our plans to travel on a Greyhound bus later that evening to Calgary, they all told us about an incident where a schitzo guy was traveling on a greyhound bus and chopped another passengers head off. Seriously, that happened. In the same province, and not too long ago. Great.

Anyhoozle, said bus trip has been completed and we are alive. Loving Canada, it's freakishly friendly people, the bum warmers and the crazy amount of sugary lollies at convenience stores.

Right: I look like I am about to be shot out of a canon. I love this helmut!

My new favourite Spanish name.

2008-11-09T12:35:00.000-08:00

Okay, so spanish people can have really funny names, in case you didn't already know, the spanish have their first name, which are very commonly double barrelled, and they take their fathers first last name, and their mothers first last name. If somewhere along the line there has been a notable last name, they can also continue it on, if they damn well please, using both of each parents 2 last names, then grandparents, great grand parents etc etc until your name is longer than the passport queue at a London airport.

Until now, my favourite name has been Maria Jesus de Todos Los Santos. (Mary Jesus yes that is actually a woman's name Of all the Saints). I don't know why this is my favourite, I just heard it once and thought it was funny. When Maro & Sing, the aussies who lived here, went back to Australia, I tried to send them jamon (cured ham - a spanish delicacy) in the post, it was an air sealed plastic wrapped package, i though it might get through. On the "sender" part of the package I put that it was from Maria Jesus de Todos Los Santos. The jamon didn't get through. They got a note from customs saying that Maria Jesus de Todos Los Santos was commiting a crime by sending meat in the post.

So although I've known my friend Maria's full name for a long time, I've never really thought exactly what her name translates into english. My friend Maria, who rocks by the way, mentioned at dinner the other night that people used to laugh at her name when she was at school. Then after discussing why, I realised that yes, she has a really fucking funny name. Its Maria Isabel León Carrillo del Albornoz. Which translates to Mary Elizabeth Lion Little Cheeks of the Bath Robe. HELLO! HILARIOUS! How have I missed this excellent name of my good friend Maria? The only time I've even really seen her last name is on her emails, and the last name is so long I didn't really pay attention. So much time has been wasted with Maria Jesus de Todos Los Santos being my favourite! How has this little gem of Maria's name been right under my very nose the whole time!?

Even just having the word Lion in your last name is cool, not to mention Little Cheeks of the Bath Robe! Crazy shit!

I'm part Thai now

2008-11-03T03:50:00.000-08:00

So last week my sister said to me, "Oh by the way, we are going to have a new step mother next Tuesday" WTF in capital letters, was my reply.

So my parents have been divorced for about 14 years, Dad has had a few girlfriends, since. One I didn't like much cause she pretended she was really posh even though she was going out with a man, nicknamed Keg who bought a house on a property precisely for the Greyhound training facilities, replaced the Australian flag on the flag pole in the yard with a VB flag (his favourite beer) and named his new house VB (said beer) Lodge. She was kidding herself.

Another one I didn't mind too much. Her name was Peg, which rhymed with Keg and she drank whiskys and cokes at the same rate my dad drank stubbies of VB. She was hardcore. I thought they suited. They also kinda looked the same.

Then Dad started going to Thailand. Considering that dad is pretty damn racist and is known to call chinese people chinks, and probably cannot tell the difference between Thais and chinese cause in his words "They all look the bloody same" this was quite surprising. He was obviously taking advantage of the infamous Thai sex industry. Its gross and hideous to me, but what can I do. I hardly ever speak to my dad, I can hardly disown him. Well, after a few trips there was one such Thai lady that he seemed to be quite interested in. She was a chef (score!) and eventually came back to OZ to be with him, steal my inheritance from under my very eyes and enjoy life at VB lodge (poor love).

There is no time for embaressment. There is no way I can spin this story to make it sound less embaressing. I just gotta accept it, get over it and hope they have a little Thai bebe.

She has a son, 8yrs old, who is named...wait for it.... EGG. I think Egg quietly rocks. (even though i don't know him yet).

So on a Tuesday, (a perfect day for a wedding don't you think?) Dad married the Thai. So now I have a step mother. And you know what... I DON'T EVEN KNOW HER NAME! No one has ever told me! I have NO IDEA WHAT MY STEPMOTHERS NAME IS.
There's gotta be a bright side to your dad marrying a mail order bride, so I have a few questions:
Does she cook good Pad Thai?
Can I now get a working Visa in Thailand?
Does her family live by the beach or in a picturesque landscape?
When will I have a Thai step brother/sister?

Update

2008-11-03T03:49:00.000-08:00

My ankle was fucked and I had to get plaster. 2 weeks of plaster and I've been limping for about 2 weeks. If I thought I was doing nothing being unemployed before, being unemployed AND with plaster on my leg was REALLY doing nothing. Solitaire. Movies. Books. I went from the bed to the lounge and ocasionally getting up to go to the toilet. Argh. Hard work. I didn't even cook lunch. Marcos took over and when he was too lazy to cook lunch he just nipped on over to his parents house and picked up several days worth of delicious homemade spanish dishes. (I am waaaaay past being guilty about getting food from Ms Mum, far too tasty!)

Well one day I actually did try to make lunch, the first and last time until I was properly mobile. Our kitchen is really narrow and the space between the sink and the bench is the perfect distance to use as makeshift crutches. I started cutting some onion but I was in an awkward position so I decided to lean on the bench and swing myself around to a more frontal position, for some unfathomable reason as I was swinging myself around I held the knife I was using by its handle and pointed the sharp bit towards my person. And of course as I swung myself around I stabbed myself right in the god damn fucking thigh! It went in only about 1cm, but I felt it go in, and then the sensation of pulling it out and it was hardcore! I stabbed myself! Not a cut. a STAB! I started bleeding and Marcos came home from work minutes later to find me on the lounge, pants around my ankles, blood running down my leg and screaming the minute he walked in "I stabbed myself!" His reply WTF!? It is interesting to note that when you tell someone that you stabbed yourself their first reaction is as if you did it on purpose, like you were trying to kill yourself. The idea that you were trying to kill yourself is somehow more likely than an accidental stabbing incident. When I re-told the story, most people looked at me like I was a suicide risk when my first descriptive words of the incident were "I stabbed myself!" I soon changed it to "I ACCIDENTLY stabbed myself" and things were instantly clearer.

So due to the plaster I haven't been running for ages, I have been sitting on the lounge alot, I haven't been doing jack shit. I have been eating peanut butter & butter on toast instead of my normal healthy breakfast. I have been eating lots of lollies and chocolate that i still have left over from easter. (yes thats in April and its a little crusty but I kinda like how it makes your tongue a but furry). My doorman asked me the other day if I was pregnant, he didn't just ask it, he felt it necessary to state that I looked fatter in general and that my belly looked huge. Thanks fucker. But no. I am not pregnant. He looked a bit embaressed that i said no, but not embaressed enough to ask Marcos again when he got home, just to double check! Hijo de la gran PUTA! But interestingly, in my life, its not the first time I've been asked even though I've never been pregnant. Belly be gone! One day i will have a normal belly...one day.

I fell over

2008-10-07T06:58:00.002-07:00

I went running along the river and some cani (westie, redneck etc) had his motobike down there (not allowed) and he rode past me and did a wheelie. He wasnt really near me but when he landed I could see he wasnt really in control (cause he was a 16 year old cani with far to much confidence and hair gel) so I went right to dodge right away from him, didnt see a mini ledge and I dropped down like a sack of potatos. Twisted ankle and a grazed knee. Falling down sucks. I lay there for ages not wanting to get up. Luckily Marcos was with me and I could say a million times "It really hurts, Ive really hurt myself" in a whingy type of voice. At home Marcos wrapped my foot in ice & an aboriginal art inspired tea towel that mum sent. He also put something called agua oxigenada on my graze which bubbled up white shit and looked like acid and hurt like hell. It still hurts. I have crutches. (well they are kinda cool) Exercise and cani´s dont mix and can be hazardous to your health.

It would be so awesome to have given birth to TuPac.

2008-10-07T06:53:00.003-07:00

Just got back from a weekend in Lagos, Portugal. I went with Discover Sevilla, a tour company that I do design work for, they offered me a free trip, all I had to do was help out a little when needed. My good friend Rachel works for Discover Sevilla so as I wasn't doing anything else & Marcos was in Berlin running the marathon I decided that drinking at the beach with Rachel and 115 20yr old American students would be fun.
Well it was fun, it seems that "helping out" was drinking beers with Rachel, occasionally counting students and making sure they didn't fall over when so drunk they cant even walk. I did have fun but it has to be said that 20 yr old american students are fucking freaks of nature. Instead of making me feel old, which would have been quite possible considering my newly 30´d fragile state, they made me feel damn happy that I wasn't 20 years old and therefore may have to hang out with people like them. They also made me worry for the future state of America.
At the opening party, the people at the bar had written on the blackboard out the front. "Cum and party, fuck on or at the bar" and the security guards wore TShirts with a stick figure on the front, that had no head, with words below that read. "SECURITY, needs head" I mean REALLY! Call me prudish but can people really get away with this shit? Inside the party, there was shockingly some nerdy looking boys who really knew how to cut some moves on the dance floor, then some girl got off the podium and I saw her undies, then I saw some people doing my all time dancefloor HATE move, The Man Sandwich, (girl in the middle, 2 guys gyrating into her from either side) then I had to get the hell out of there.
Manning the door, I met Brad, one of "the kids" he couldn't stand up, so I stood with him on the wall, he had mentos, he kept trying to give me one but kept dropping them cause he lost his motor skills probably at 2pm that same day. I took them off him and ate them all. Sucker. I made the mistake of asking Brad what he was studying. He got into his spiel, something like this "Finance Consulting, I am going to work for the American government, where I will have the safety and benefits of working for the government BUT I WILL EARN LOTS OF FUCKING MONEY" He spat in my face when he said that last bit. I can't even tell you what some of the other american kids said to me, they would speak and I would have absolutely no response to what they said, cause it was 1. boring or 2. made no sense. How can someone speak and make no sense? These are suposedly literate people.
Day 2 one guy said "I just want to immerse myself in the portugese culture" he was so drunk he couldn't walk straight and had the red face of someone who had been drinking for 36 hours straight. He was asleep in the corner of the bar an hour later. Can he hear himself speak? I didnt want to know what he was studying at university cause I feared he would respond, medicine or politics and then I would want to spear tackle him into the cultured portugese earth. Then he would sue me and I would then be a financial contributor to his path to greatness in american medicine or politics.
I think its their voices... A friend and I once decided that Americans speak every sentence like what they are saying is the most important and truest thing in the world. I have a lot of american friends here and not one of them speak like that, so I have come to know that this can be true only with young americans. Well, I have met some young americans that don't speak like that so maybe they come from a certain part of america and its their specific accent. I don't know. But I do know that its annoying, but for comedic value, it does make what they say sound even more outrageous.
I was sitting in front of 2 girls on the bus, these girls had the annoying way of speaking that I talk about above. They were listening to music, sharing an iPod and talking at the same time, talking so loudly so I heard every mindless word they uttered. Some of their riveting conversations went as follows:

Girl 1: Oh my god, I would have like, loved to have given birth to TuPac, like you know, be his mother.
(This was when I started listening to them, I simply cannot describe what it feels like to hear someone say something so stupid but with such conviction. and um isnt TuPac like DEAD?)
Girl 2: Yeah totally, or like, someone equally as famous or just like, equally as cool.

Girl 1: Can you like, sing, because you seem to know lots about music and performing and stuff and I feel like you must be a really good singer or something.
Girl 2: Modest Um, well. Then silence so she must have been shrugging or blushing.
Girl 1. Oh my god you can sing! I would so LOVE to hear you sing like on tape or something.
Why wait to hear it on tape, she is sitting right next to you! Is tape better than hearing it live?
Then about 1 minute of silence... Then the girl starts singing! Like ballad singing, to really show off her excellent (it really wasnt) voice. Oh for the love of god. SHUT UP!

Girl 1: I feel like I wrote this song I know it so well.
Girl 2: You wrote this song!?
Girl 1: No I just feel like I could have cause I know it so well.

Girl 1: Do you think they were really in love?
Girl 2: Yes, they were SO in love, like really in love.
Girl 1: What do you think Justin thinks about her now, is he worried about her? Do you think he like calls her to see how she is?
Girl 2: Yeah, definately, cause they're still friends.
Talking about Britney Spears and Justin Timberlake.

Entertainment Puro.

Unemployment....and the snail family.

2008-09-30T02:35:00.000-07:00

I really should be blogging more. I am unemployed after all. I got fired. It happened a couple of months ago. Long story short, my boss was a tool burger. I was working crazy un-necessary hours, working till 6am just cause your bosses have a presentation the next day (that I had to prepare) and at midnight they are still arguing over the content (only starting to brainstorm the content at 11pm) doesnt maketh for a happy workplace. Boss turns up at 4pm most days, with "urgent" work that is due the following day etc etc We have a meeting, everyone is pissed. the bosses say if you dont like it then fuck off. They say "no es justo pero es lo que hay" Its not fair but its what there is. I suggest that we need to be compensated for our overtime with corresponding days off/free hours at the end of the project to encourage not taking advantage of our time. The boss says "when I worked in New York I´d be in the office all night long" This is NOT fucking New York dickhead and maybe if you didnt spend so much time in the office you would be able to distinguish between the two cities, loser. My workmate called them franco era facists. She got fired too.

I am claiming unemployment benefits which you get for a percentage of the amount of time you have been working. For me, thats 4 months worth of unemployment benefits and almost the same pay as I was getting when I worked. So its holidays till November....

The snail family is still alive! It must be said that liquid paper does not kill snails. Seville has just had a lot of rain and the snails have been out like crazy. We´ve seen many of the old little guys that haven´t been seen for ages. Whitey, if you remember, was the one we painted all white. He´s gotten so much bigger and isnt so much white all over but more like splotchy white. He´s grown up and gotten kinda punk. Unfortunately last night, my friend Miguel, crushed to death Casi, the one named after Marcos´s Mum. It was quite sad to see her all smashed up. There are lots of new little babies out, if its cruel to put liquid paper on snails then it must be even more cruel to put it on baby snails. Like piercing a newborns ears..... which brings me to another story. Marcos´s friends Javi & Ana recently had a baby. Marcos showed me some pics they sent him online, when they were still in the hospital and I was shocked to see that, in the hospital, the baby had its ears pierced! WTF I said! The baby has its ears pierced! Little tiny pearls! Marcos tells me this is normal and someone comes around while the baby is in the hospital and asks if you want it done there!!! Poor little new born baby ears! After discussing this with every spanish person I came across in the next few days, they all tell me that all the spanish do it, and its better for the baby cause it cant even feel it! Well, methinks it can feel it. THEN, Marcos went to visit the baby, I couldn´t go for some reason, and when he returned he had MORE freaky spanish baby news.....THEY´D SHAVED ITS HEAD! It seems that baby had unsightly bald patches and thin whispy daggy baby hair... So Buzz Cut for Baby! She looks cuter, and it goes so much nicer with her pearl studs now doesnt it? I couldnt believe this! Then, when discussing it with Ms Mum, she tells me that its normal (in Spain of course, nowhere else where Ive damn been!) and you have to wait till the baby is 40 days old to do it. THERE ARE MEDICAL RULES TO BABY BUZZ CUTS? Well it seems there are. Jeez, so much to learn.

Betty

2008-09-15T04:17:00.003-07:00

Little baby Betty has got a tooth! So cute! The liitle alien will be into steaks in no time!

Olympics

2008-08-28T06:21:00.000-07:00

Its funny watching the olympics when you are not in your country. I have been away from Australia the last 3 Olympics. 2000 I was in China, the opening ceremony was viewed in a bar that we were sure would have some olympic excitement it was called the "Australia Bar" It did NOT have any olympic excitement (even though 2000 was actually in OZ HELLO!), in fact we had to request the TV to be turned on and then the waitresses, several times, tripped over the cord, hence ripping it out of the socket without realising it, which halted the coverage and then we had to wait for them to plug that shit back in. Our new student accommodation TVs had to be tuned in to get any olympic coverage, this was a massive feat on my part, cause I ended up tuning the damn thing, ALL IN CHINESE. I dont even know how to tune a TV in english! It took me hours! THEN I realised that the coverage in different countries generally focus on the athletes and excelled sports of said country, so when when Thorpie was about to win gold in the pool or Kathy Freeman was about to win gold on the track, all I had to watch was the damn PING PONG! Stupid Ping Pong!

In Spain now, its a little easier cause I understand the language, I understand what the hell they say n the TV, I can tell if I am watching a final or a heat (not so easy in chinese) and I am both supporting the success and failures of both Australia and Spain. Spain has actually had pretty good coverage of everything so I have been able to see lots of Australian action.

Some of the coverage has been pretty funny. This one guy, a Taikwondo champion, Juan Antonio Ramos, he was a favourite to win, and he ended up coming 4th, he was interviewed straight after and he was crying like a baby and said he was disappointed that he couldnt dedicate a medal to his wife (how romantic blurgh) then he said between tears "La vida es una mierda!" LIFE IS SHIT! Ha! Hilarious! Alright mate calm down. We´ve been laughing about that for days now.
The commentators are also hilarious, Supposedly, in hockey, Australia lost a game on purpose to be able to play Spain in the semis cause they thought they would be easier... when spain beat australia, the commentator lost it and started screaming "TAKE THAT AUSTRALIA, SUCK IT, SUCKED IN, YOU WANTED SPAIN, TAKE SPAIN!" I for one think this is a little immature and un-sportsman like but here it seems to be quite normal!
One commentator was interviewing this jamaican woman runner after a heat, obviously he had to interview her in his average english, it was a 20 second interview, he then translated what was said and it had absolutely no resemblance to what really happened! And he spoke for about 2 minutes about what was said...I was screaming..."she didnt even SAY that!! This commentator was just making shit up for exciting coverage! Dodgy!

LAS VEGAS - Bucks Night

2008-08-28T06:07:00.002-07:00

Hens night blog to come.... but here is a funny pic in the meantime of Jody getting an impromtu strip from some guy at the restaurant. The tattoo on his belly said Paco, but I like to think it said Taco, caused it looked like he ate alot of them.

Marcos came back from the bucks night asking what does "what happens in vegas stays in vegas" mean exactly. Hmmm, this frightened me somewhat and I said if the groom used those words then he must tell me NOW. No no no he said, the groom behaved respectably, some other guy was saying it all night. OK I say, thats all I need to know, and just for future reference, what happens in Vegas, does not stay in Vegas, it is told to me and I will then decide what to do with the information. So he told me they went to a lap dancing club, well, he didnt just tell me, he showed me the moves they did, all done in a very gay like fashion, (he is really into the show Fama, which is the spanish version of "So you think you can Dance") which was riveting let me tell you. He also said that he wasnt very popular with the strippers, as one of them screamed at him!!! He said he paid his 20 bucks for 1 lap dance and he said he wasnt gonna spend any more (mind you he had just spent 160US$ on a very expensive dinner), so later one of the strippers came along and he said to her oh, no, no thanks I dont have any more money, she then screamed at him, "then get out of here you cheap bastard!" Ironically this same stripper lost her diamonte belt chain in front of Marcos so he kept it as a souviner - hiding it in his shoe - even though she came back later looking for it with a scowling face! So now we have an angry vegas strippers diamonte belt hanging from a hook in our lounge room, a real interior design gem. The lap dance he did get gave him a, I will say, small lesion on his leg where the slutty stiletto of the stripper must have cut him, he still has a scab to which he now looks at and exclaims, "Ive still got a scab, Im gonna sue that fucking stripper, it´ll probably scar!" Hilarious!

LOS ANGELES

2008-08-21T06:02:00.006-07:00

Little Betty and I hanging out after the below crying incident. She is clearly laughing about how mean she was to me. Little Satan Baby!

In LA I met Betty for the first time. LITTLE BABY BETTY IS SO ADORABLE!!!!! Granted the first day I was with her, Teeny (my sister) and my Mum went to a taping of The Ellen Show, I volunteered to baby sit Betty. She was sleeping at first and looked so lovely, she then woke up and I put her in the pram for a spot of shopping. well the damn alien was fine until I stopped to look and things and then she CRIED, it seems she just wanted to go for a little walk and all the american goods that were on offer for bargain prices due to the weakness of the dollar were not of interest to the terry towelling pink bonds jumpsuited little satan. I gave up and went back to the hotel. Then it was time for her bottle and she didnt even want it and MORE crying! It seems what she wanted after much crying was to lean her little head on my forearm in a very uncomfortable position for me, while I bounced her around the room and the halls of the hotel. FOR AN HOUR! Then she fell asleep and it wasnt even sleep time! Lazy bastard! But then she was so cute asleep I forgave her for all the pain she had just caused me.....Oh but yes, there was more pain to come. That evening, with a suspected upset tummy from the long flight, she projectile vommited her weight in spew onto me, leaving me with puddles of vommit in the creases of my jeans. THEN, the next day, all comfy on Aunty kristy´s tummy in the Baby Bjorn, Aunty Kristy suddenly feels something wet on her feet. I scream, I THINK BABY BETTY JUST PEED ON MY FEET. As I couldnt see my feet cause the view was being blocked by baby betty bouncing in the baby bjorn, my sister inspects the mysterious liquid. "Um thats not pee its poo" It seems baby bettys upset tummy is still wreaking havoc and american babies have fatter asses that the aussies cause the runny poo escaped out the sides of the ill fitting pampers. As a true trooper mother teeny wipes my feet with a wet wipe, takes the runny poo filled baby (GET HER OFF ME) snaps the baby born on her own body and heads back to the hotel to clean up. Kids are ROTTEN!

Jody (the bride) later joined us and we packed the hire car up to look like national lampoons family vacation. The car was decent sized, my suitcase was small enough to fit in the front seat of the car on the floor, everyone else however had packed as if they were immigrants leaving their countries for good... Teeny packed a GIANT suitcase and then ANOTHER medium sized one... claiming that all of Betty´s 000 sized bonds jumpsuits really do take up alot of room. So we had to make a trip to Kmart which was an adventure in itself, to buy a tarp and things to secure the goods. We had roof racks so we piled Teenys stuff of the top of the car, figuring baby Betty wouldnt care if she lost a few nappies, jumpsuits or her pram, covered it with a tarp and embaressingly drove all the way to Vegas with a bright blue tarp flapping dangerously in the wind. The Vegas mixed CD I had prepared (with great vegas hits such as viva los vegas and a great kenny rogers track) and bought along made us feel cool from the inside of the car but we certainly didnt look cool from the outside.

OK maybe Little betty is cool, both inside and out! So cute!

LA was quite fun, all I can really write about as far as sightseeing is the "tour of the stars homes" limo ride that we took. This was very fun and we of course took vino in the ride to be truly famous looking. The hightlight of the limo right was when we had consumed all of the vino and therefor were busting to pee. Where does a limo stop when its occupants need to go to the toilet? Well of course it stops at the public toilet when George Michael got busted doing dodgy business. Here we are at said toilet... so cool.

Oh and I saw my long lost friend Malko which was AWESOME as the americans would say. New Rule Malko...no wearing watches in gym class! MUA!

SAN FRANCISCO

2008-08-21T06:00:00.001-07:00

From New York we caught a plane across to San Francisco with a brief stopover in Chicago airport where we unfortunately did not see Oprah WInfrey (bummer). after arriving in San Fransisco you instantly get the feeling you are by the water, its just got that coastal beach vibe about it. Its just so damn pretty! The architecture, the blue skies, and those streets! Damn they are steep! Everything you imagine and more. We saw some closed ones whose slopes were too dangerous for cars, but methinks you may fall backwards while walking up one...so steep. Mum, who was yelling "taxi" like a true New Yorker at any given second, had a few tantrums at the bottom or top of many of these steep streets. She didnt have a heart attack though and am sure one day (?) will thank me for making her walk the famous Lombard street. Was fantastic to have some great asian meals as they are in very very short supply in seville, we got local in chinatown and had a fabulous chinese meal with a bossy over the top waiter who pretty much forced us to order what he wanted us to.... then the next day got glam and went to a posher chinese restaurant in the Ferry Market building which was just simply divine...I LOVE FOOD!

From San Francisco we hired a car, Mum bought her Tom Tom GPS which HELLO is a travellers DREAM, what an amazing little gadget! It made everything so easy! How many cities have I been lost in! Heaps! Most notably trying to get out of Lisbon to go south and ending up in Benfica which is neither Lisbon nor south. Also missing the turn off for Verona, in Italy not once but 3 times in a row, each time having to try and turn around and come back on the highway and passing that damn Vincenza town the whole damn time... a 1 1/2 trip turned into 4 hours. But not those sorts of troubles with Tom Tom! I love him!

Tom Tom cant solve all problems though. We left San Fran at approx 8:30am... the plan was to cruise on down Highway 1 (USA version of the Great Ocean Road) enjoy the scenery, stop for lunch, see the seals, and arrive in Santa Barbara in the early evening. WELL. We started off well, I bought the best of the Beach Boys to get us in the californian mood, the sun was shining, the views were amazing, lots of cool places to stop and take pics. We stopped at a place to have lunch with amazing views. Twas during this lunch that we saw in the distance, a plume of smoke that kinda looked like a tornado. So we continue our journey, only to be later stopped (about 2.30pm) by higway patrol who said in his most bestest american accent. "Sorry mam, there is an accident and a fire, you have to go back to where you came from" "WE CAME FROM SAN FRANCISCO" I SCREAMED! Highway 1 is one highway, and for a very large part of it, it has no exits as it has coast on one side and lush forest on the other... There was no choice, we had to drive all the way back to the point where you can get the inland 101 highway.... the BORING inland 101! Nooooooo! We even missed the seals! We arrived in Santa Barbara so late there was no time to see anything and we were up at the crack of dawn to head straight to LA airport to pick up my sister teeny and my little niece Baby Betty.

NEW YORK

2008-08-21T05:52:00.005-07:00

Being that I havent blogged for ages, I thought it about damn time I blogged about my USA trip and Jodys wedding... so long ago but so much damn fun and looking back on the pics I just want her to get married again.

I visited such great cities they have to be blogged about seperately....

We´ll start in New York...
The plan was to meet Mum in New York. Is there anything more glamorous than meeting someone in New York? Well of course in theory its glamorous but in reality after a 12 hour flight where I got drunk for the first time (love Lufthansa! They passed by after dinner asking if I wanted "Cognac or Baileys" as my after dinner beverage. Of course I accepted a Cognac as Baileys is for wimps, and they presented me with a giant glass of the throat burning and instant sleep inducing Cognac. Nice one.) We co-ordinated flight times perfectly and she arrived a couple of hours before me at JFK airport. We had an exciting reunion, hugs, kisses, but no tears, which was unusual for Mum cause she normally cries at everything, I soon found out why. She said while she was waiting she ordered a coffee so she was alert for my arrival after such a long flight from Sydney, they served her a coffee that contained so much liquid that she could have washed her car with it. She drank it of course and was so very high on the caffeine she was unable to muster even a tear for her long lost daughter.

I always try to stay in the cheapest hotels, and my mum is used to this after doing a bit of travel with me in europe, this hotel was by far one of the worst I had ever stayed it...strangely Marcos recommended it to me, and he loved it! I don´t think he stayed on the same floor as us cause ours was rough, Mums bed had a blood stain on it! I said it was brown and could have just as easily of been poo but that was no consolation. Lucky hers was a double bed and she vowed to sleep on the "clean" side, she is a good sport. We liked the crazy characters that we passed in the hall, one was a loud black prostitute (well maybe she wasnt a prostitute but who wears red lipstick, big hair, heels and tight black capris at 8am?) a sweet looking russian prostitute (well maybe she wasnt a prostitute but who wears a night dress and heels through the hallways of a dodgy hostel and leaves her door slightly ajar to see only a bed surrounded by 50 tealight candles?) and a man who looked homeless but he wasn´t homeless obviously cause he lived at the hostel. They were our savoury neighbours for the duration of our stay. I told Mum to toughen up, the New York experience calls for a level of danger!

On the first day we met up with an old friend Lidia, supposedly just for lunch, but of course when the kids from Blacktown come out to play, lunch turns into 3 cocktails at a bar afterwards and stumbling through the streets of New York trying on hats in random shops. My first cosmopolitans for the trip so it needed to happen. That evening Mum and I had tickets for the broadway show called "Jersey Boys" we had both bought special outfits and accessories for our Broadway theatre experience but of course after a bottle of wine and 3 cocktails during the day there was no time for glamour and we needed to fill in a bit of time before the show.
We came across this bar, the russian vodka bar that advertised an "attitude adjustment hour". I told Mum that she had a serious attitude problem and that the russians needed to adjust it. She agreed that she had a very bad attitude too so we went to try and adjust it with some more cosmopolitans.

We were starting to see a common theme in america, everything was giant. Mum ordered an ice tea and it was twice the size of her head, she drank about 1/8th of the thing! Too giant! We stopped at a deli for sandwiches, the sandwiches had about 80 slices of meat on them! Mine came with a side of chips, they were the size of my head! (americans must measure everything with their head, fuck rulers!) We couldnt stop laughing at the sheer absurdity of it!

I loved all the New York accents, like on TV but in real life! We went to a gospel church in Harlem where the pastor did not disappoint with his "Praise the Lord" deep loud, african american sounding voice. One guy was fighting with his girlfriend on the street, she was walking ahead defiantly and he was tagging behind, baggy pants and all shouting, "Fuck you biiitch, you want some other nigga, plenty otha niggas out there for ya" It was just so exciting! One glamorously dressed couple near central park stopped to give us directions and then came out with an accent like Nanny Fine! Straight from Queens! So cool!

Campeones, Campeones, o eh o eh o eh!!!

2008-07-01T05:03:00.007-07:00

Last weekend we went to see Jack Johnson in Barcelona. I have been to Barcelona twice already and really like it, but it was Marcos´s first time there. Very bad spanish boy! Its nice going to a big spanish city but I wouldnt change living in Sevilla for anything. Sevilla is far too lovable. We went with spanish friends Isabel & Domingo who are also fans of Jack Johnson. Isabel has family and a few friends in Barcelona so on the Friday night after we arrived we all met for a big dinner in the Raval district of Barcelona. This is known to be a bit of a dodgy district and it was funny seeing so many dodgy types and prostitutes hanging about, we dont get much of that in sevilla. We had a big dinner and I tried for the first time...wait for it.... kidneys! Pork kidneys that is not human kidneys, I am no canibal. One of the shared dishes we ordered was a plate of mixed meat an out came some of the old kidneys, I didnt know what they were at first but to be honest they were the first thing on the plate that caught my eye cause they looked so tasty. Most of the spanish turned their noses up on the kidneys in disgust (although they would quite happily eat the cheek or other gross parts!) but I was feeling brave and gave it a go. It was ncie! I couldnt quite get out of my head what really it was but it had the texture of the tough bit of a mushroom so I just kept thinking about that.
Saturday night was Jack Johnson and he rocked! Well maybe he is too mellow to say he actually rocked but I though he was great. I couldnt believe how many people were there considering most spanish people dont know who he is, granted there were a damn lot of guiris (foreigners) and specifically a damn lot of aussies! I actually saw a few blue bonds truckdriver singlets! Noice.

Marcos speaks english really well, we dont speak much in spanish which is really bad for me but we´ve always spoken in english so its hard to break the habit. Of course he often makes small mistakes, I can always understand him and dont even notice it enough to correct him. He also often says sentences that because they are translated literally from spanish to english, I understand him cause I know what it would be in spanish and it doesnt sound so weird to me...however of course, sometimes he does make language faux pa´s, mostly in public, like for example a common swear word is "me cago en la madre que te pario" which means "I shit on the mother that gave birth to you" in spanish its used alot, you can even say it joking, maybe even when someone puts down a good card in Uno, between friends...but in english is pretty damn harsh...Marcos has tried to say "I shit on your mother" in english and I have to demand he simply not say it cause he just may get shot. Well on the way back from the concert I questioned Marcos about some change he had to give Domingo for some beers, Marcos exclaimed in a loud voice "Yeah, I put my hand in my ass and I found coins!" There were a couple of english speakers in front of us who laughed at this and he knew he had said something wrong but couldnt work out what! He meant to say he put his hand in his back pocket and found the coins... I would never correct this cause I know what he means but yes maybe I should do a bit more correcting so he doesnt get publicly laughed at and people dont think he puts coins up his ass.

We arrived back on Sunday afternoon, ready for the final of the Euro Cup between Spain & Germany. Marcos was nervous all weekend, and couldnt stop counting down the hours till the game. The previous 2 games, against Italy (spains nemesis) and Russia we watched at our friends Maria & Miguels house. For these games we started a custom of wearing all red (I didnt have anything red so wore a dress of maria´s) and drinking the national beverage of the country. For Italy we had Italian Pinot Griggio white wine & vodka for russia. For this final match no-one wanted to jinx so we all wore the same clothes, shoes and drank german beer, we had to watch it at Maria & Miguels place as changing locations would have been bad luck. Isabel came this time to watch the final and Marcos said if Spain starts playing shit he will have to kick her out of the house as she may be a jinx! Bastard!

I dont like sport at all but a final is exciting I must say, and only cause spain was playing. It was fun when spain scored the first and only winning goal (spain won 1-0) and everyone went mental. There were some tense moments but spain dominated the game and it was a good win. Here is Marcos, Domingo and Miguel after the first goal was scored.

Here we are in the final minute of the game getting ready for the win.

Here we are after the whistle blows. Marcos and Domingo running to the window to scream and everyone bips their horns in the streets and you can hear the cheers from all the surrounding bars/apartments.

Miguel opens a bottle of champers and we all decide to head to Puerta de Jerez a square with a fountain in the centre of seville where everyone seems to go after a big win. (Although Spain hadnt won anything in 44 years, but they go there when the Seville team win something)

We walked towards the square, and we see that the spanish flag is out in full force and everyone is dressed in red & yellow.
The square was packed with people, jumping up and down, singing, chanting, "Si Si Si La copa ya esta aqui" and "campeones, campeones o eh o eh o eh". It was madness and oh so much fun!

Summer Pool Party

2008-06-25T06:52:00.014-07:00

Its freakin hot here! After a slow start to the hot weather we´ve had 2 weeks of 38 deg weather...and the forcast is that temperatures will rise due to a saharan wind comin on in! I mean really...saharan wind!? I remember my canadian friends once telling me about the "arctic wind" that freezes the shit out of them if it comes their way, and now we have a saharan wind... hold on to your sunscreen people we may get fried. It reminds me of that scene in Terminator where the people spontaneously combust at the park. I hope that doesnt happen here. So yes yes, pretty damn hot, horario de verano (summer working hours) havent started yet (8-3 workday) and I am astounded every day as to why the hell sevilla doesnt have any more damn public pools. In OZ, we are surrounded by the sea, heaps of people we know have swimming pools and most suburbs have public swimming pools. Seville has public swimming pools but they are indoor and generally only for exercise. You cant swim in the river (throw in a bit of chlorine I say, who needs the fish, we need WATER!). You can drive 1 hour to the beach but every other person in seville has that same idea so the traffic to/from the beach on any weekend is outrageous. I am on a quest to find a hotel that will let me use their swimming pool... I am on the case with a few of the americans and with a few low cut tops and extra clevage we hope we can convince some fool to let us laze by the pool. (Seville is empty in summer, why not!?)
One of the rarely seen americanitas Deidre, but she calls herself Isa cause the spanish cant cope with Deidre! (she just had a baby and lives in the country so we dont get to see her much) decided to be kind to all us sufferers and have a pool party last weekend! Heaven! The pool party was held in Sanlucar la Mayor a village 19km outside seville.

If there wasnt so much spanish tiling covering the outside of her house I would have been able to pretend I was at an aussie BBQ. We drank and ate all day and played with the cutie little newborn Roberto, or Bobby his american AKA.... look at this cute little fattie boombah!

Here is Sarah looking very Marbella lazing in the pool with a very not marbella botellin of Cruzcampo.... the spanish stubby of choice.

We were very careful mixing such safe drinking in the sun combinations such as beer, pimms and lemonade, champagne and rasberry juice.

For dessert, the americans introduced me to an american summer camping tradition of S´Mores, they claim to be called this cause you always want some more.... so first you toast marshmallows in the fire. (I felt like I was in an american movie doing this....fun!) you try not to burn it, mine was black in about 3 seconds I put right in the fire no one told me there was a strategy...damn americans! You wait till the marshmallow is to your liking (black) and then you pair it with a slab of chocolate between some graham biscuits to make a chocoalte and marshmallow sandwich... it is tasty but kinda disgusting at the same time.

Im at work now and my workmates just came in and said that the street thermometres are saying its 44 deg! Jesus Cristo! I might have to start wearing a turban! Ok I dont know if turbans fight the heat but all the middle eastern dessert dwellers are always wearing them so it may help....

Santa Luzia, Portugal.

2008-06-11T04:00:00.003-07:00

I know, I know, I´ve been here a million times. I just love it, the Santa Luzia apartment isnt ours but we pretend it is. The spanish gang havent stayed at the apartment before so we took them there, had a lovely weekend doing what we do best there, eating, drinking and relaxing. I made a New York themed dinner on the Saturday night, the spanish girls had never had a Cosmopolitan before, The horror! After drinking about 100 of them they may well never have another...Viva Portugal!

London. A Damn good weekend!

2008-06-11T03:38:00.006-07:00

I havent been blogging cause I like to blog in chronological order and the wedding/USA trip blog is half written and the wedding/USA trip photos are half sorted and Ive been busy (for spain) at work and havent been able to get my shiz together.
So Ive decided to forget about the wedding/USA trip blog until I get all that sorted and just continue posting about other things easier to write a shorter blog about with not so many pics to chose from.

So here brings me to now. well, maybe not now, mid May, 1 1/2 weeks after I got back from the USA I went to visit Mick in London for the weekend to see his new apartment and give him my very important approval of this big purchase. As you can see from the pics its a great little place and perfect for Mick.

What a damn good weekend I had! Marcos and I lived in London a few years back, I was never very keen on loving there, Spain was always calling me back, but as a place to visit, especially with a good friend to catch up with, London is a fucking great place to go! Comparably, Sevilla is like a village and its great to visit the big smoke, restaurants, shopping, theatre, cocktails!

I always crave asian food when I am away from Sevilla and London did not disappoint. After a spot of shopping on Saturday morning we went to a fabulous dumpling restaurant and ordered this tower of dumplings. Yum.

During lunch Mick got a call from his friend Glen asking if we wanted his tickets to go see Madonna at a big outdoor concert...Um HELL YES! Mick and bought us tickets to go to the theatre that afternoon, we went to the theatre saw an interesting play about a drunkard crazy mother and her fucked up children which was interesting to say the least, there was even some nudity when the son lost it and stripped off, shook his ass to the audience and there was some interesting ball shaking visuals through his legs. Nice.

We left the theatre, nipped over to pick up said tickets and made it to see Madonna, the last act at the concert at 9pm. Mick and I have an ongoing argument about madonna, I cant stand her preaching, complete with images of starving children in Africa, whilst dressed in Jean Paul Gaultier and thrusting her hips, not to mention her guitar playing. But her music is catchy and she certainly does put on a good show so we had a damn good time and I vowed to keep my opinions to myself for the moment.

Sunday was breakfast in the sun (I really miss going out for breakfast! Spain doesnt have a big going out for breakfast culture...) and shopping at Spitafields markets with the lovely Jane.

Here is Mick with some slimy oysters.

Early evening we met up with Lady P and the lovely Stephanie and it was really great to catch up with these gals who are so much fun. We had Thai, yum yum yum at Busaba an old favourite.

Baby Betty is growing fast.

2008-05-26T04:58:00.003-07:00

I know I am still yet to blog about the wedding, its such a big blog to prepare and I just havent had the time...

In the meantime here is a pic of little Betty smiling for her aunty Kristy wearing the TShirt I bought her from Hooters in Vegas. Every new born needs a TShirt from Hooters.

MOTO

2008-05-12T07:05:00.011-07:00

The word for motorbike in spanish is moto, I think this word is much cooler and we should all start using it instead of motorbike.

SO, I havent blogged for freakin ages because I spent most of April in the US of A travelling around with Mum and then attending Jody´s wedding. This requires its own blog entry so I wont talk about it here just yet but will be coming soon...

In the meantime I thought Id post some of the hilarious pics of me on the moto, as Ive said in previous blogs, my new job is located in a "village" outside of seville. I started by catching the bus and if I didnt already drink regularly, this would have driven me to the bottle, catching buses to the village ever day is so very boring and takes oh so long. Anyway, so a new girl started at my work, and it so happened that she lived near me, had a really fucking cool motorbike, a spare helmet (which I like to call elmut in a german accent) and didnt mind a paquete (package) as they call the passenger here. So for the past 6 weeks Ive been going to work on the moto and loving every damn minute of it. Simutaneously going through my brain whilst on the moto were these 2 thoughts. 1. Im going to die, Im going to die. and 2. This is so much FUN! I mean I really did love it so much! I didnt blog about this before cause I didnt want to worry my poor old Mum who probably wouldnt have slept for 6 weeks if she knew I was cruising up the highway, on a cool moto every morning. In complete defense of my driver, Ana she is no speed freak and is a chilled out and careful driver.

How big does the helmut look on me!!?? Im a lollypop head! Safety frist though, that baby fit my noggin like a glove! Here is Ana outside our village office getting a good possie by the gutter for me to hop on.

I asked my friend at work German (looks like german but you really say his name like Herman, sounds like he would be a nerd but he is really cool - Argentinian!) if I looked like a rock star and he said I look more like a lesbian. Bastard.

Holy Week Batman

2008-03-27T01:57:00.007-07:00

Holy Week has passed for another year. Its an exciting time of year but I am damn glad it is OVA! The streets are pumping and full of people. I can hear the beats of the drums and music from my house at almost all hours of the day.
There are nazarenos (those types doing penance that wear the KKK looking pointy hats with the eyes cut out.) cover the streets on their way to/from their procession. Its Seville´s busiest time of year and those sevillanos surely love their holy week.

All these photos complements of Jo...my camera is broken...
Tuesday night I couldnt get into my apartment cause a procession was passing right by my door. Had to wait till the giant jesus and virgin passed and then the people scattered on their way to see another jesus or virgin pass by at some other random point in the city.

Last year we were bad, (well we had just moved into a new place) and saw no processions. We hibernated in the house and avoided processions at all costs with out handy little Holy Week daily map book. (Most people use it to follow the processions but we use it to avaoid them) It seems the only time we go out to see any is when we have visitors who have come to see Holy Week and we must take them out to show them whats what, where to go and which virgin is which, clarifications that are very very important. This year we had mystery guests stay. Long story but when I was studying spanish here in 2003, I met a fab Canadian called Kristie Anne, her friend Lia was in Madrid working as an aupair and studying spanish just like us and she came down to Seville many times to hang with us. We also became friends and still keep in contact....anyways, her sister and her sisters boyfriend who live in London, came and stayed with us for Holy Week. I´d never met them before but I know that Lia is lovely and lots of fun so I was positive her sister would be too. I was right, Mia and Mike were lovely and great guests and they thankfully didnt kill us in our sleep!
We also had, although not officially "guests" but still guests to seville, as they stayed in a hotel, friends from London. Mike (2 Mike´s at once!) who met Amanda in London when he saw her at some rugby final drinking beer at 11am and decided he wanted to be friends with her. They became pals and amanda later rented a flat from him, which I, then Marcos later moved into. So officially he was our landlord but we met him at the pub for trivia night and in the park for dinners on the heath, so he was more of a pal that we gave money to once a month. Anyway, so Mike and his lady Jo were also in Seville and we had a great time hanging out and catching up with them. Its so nice to see old friends, freakin fun people!

Here we are having tapas at our favourite tapas place. Note the tiles of the virgin behind me... I am sure this was the virgin that left this church and blocked my way home last Tuesday night! Damn Virgins!

Chilean Dinner

2008-03-18T09:43:00.005-07:00

This dinner was actually celebrated a while ago but naughty Maria just sent me the pics... These guys are my "spanish friends" I have other spanish friends and workmates but these guys are my favourites! L-R Domingo, Miguel, Marcos, Me, Isabel & Maria. I have spoken about this crowd before. Domingo & Miguel both ran the marathon with Marcos (freaks!). We often meet up for genearl revelry and we also take turns having a "themed" dinner at each couples house. Themed meaning that we chose a country and cook up a storm. Maria & Miguel had just gotten back from Chile so they went spaz at the supermarket in Chile and bought things for the dinner on their return. We drank Chilean red wine and Pisco Sour cocktails (Yum!) ate clams and a spicy salad for entree, empanadas, corn soup and yummy lamb cutlets. This pic of us was taken just before Marcos spilled his whole glass of red wine all over the tablecloth and his and the 2 spare emapanadas. Cant take him anywhere. And look at me, dang Ive got the shoulders of a front row forward with posture issues. I had to make the photo B & W cause my face was just so red. damn red wine. Its our turn for the dinner next and we have a New York themed dinner in the works, (in homage to our upcoming USA adventure!) including Cosmopolitan cocktails which these spanish kids have never tried! The Horror!

Little Betty´s first smile

2008-03-10T09:29:00.002-07:00

Well I dont know if its her first smile but certainly the first one Ive seen. Show us yer gums!

Pretty Manda!

2008-03-10T08:22:00.003-07:00

My lovely friend Amanda was recently bridesmaid at her friend Renae´s wedding. Just thought I´d put a pic of her on my blog cause she just looks so stunning! I miss you Amanda! Mua! xx

The Marathon

2008-03-07T01:45:00.012-08:00

No dont get carried away, i DID NOT run any marathon. I would NEVER run a marathon, my running career ended with the 12km race I did a couple of years back where 6 hours after the race I still thought I was going to die. Marcos, 2 of our friends Domingo & Miguel AND Mary Anne, go girl, one of the americanitas, all ran the marathon a couple of weeks ago here in Seville. Marcos had been training regularly for this and was completely into it after running his first marathon in Madrid (with no training...Freak!) a while back. He started eating healthier, (no more choclate milk and broken biscuits for breakfast!) and with all the training he actually lost crap loads of weight and is a shadow of his former tubbier self. The race was on a sunday and I had to forgo my normal "sleep in till midday" sunday rule and be a model marthon racer girlfriend. I went along at 9.30 am (shudder) to the 10km mark with Marcos´s Mum to be there to pass Marcos his first bottle of blue powerade and an energy bar as he whizzed past. Marcos´s father was all nervous excitement and went along on his bike to follow Marcos!! Marcos said at one point he told his father to get the hell away from him (very suble the spanish are). Then I met up with Miguels model marathon runner girlfriend Maria, who had a map with strategically marked points that Miguel had prepared for her and "energy gel" to pass on to Miguel. We went to the 20km mark to pass the gels, bars and powerades like good little girlfriends and cheer as they went past. It was actually quiet exciting, I liked cheering on random people and its nice to see strangers there just cheering the people on for support.

We then went on to the 30km (in a car of course) where we met Isabel, who made it with only seconds to spare to see her husband Domingo whizz past her. (here he is, looks like he is running to the shops!) All three of us then rushed to the stadium, and we were rushing, even running at one point, I mean REALLY. why again?

We made it to the stadium to see each one finish.
Here is MaryAnne finishing, just behind Marcos, and actually came in 11th place out of the women! Good effort!!!

Here is Miguel finishing, he is SMILING! He saw us in the crowd thats why and we were cheering like he was Kathy Freeman winning the 400m at the olympics.

Marcos finished in 3hours 27minutes and was very happy with himself cause he wanted to beat his fathers own sevilla marathon 3h30min family record. Although never one to be beaten his father added later that he did it as a 45 year old so that has to count for a few minutes extra! I was told later that around the 25km point, Marcos´s Dad was riding his bike and filming Marcos and he ran into a "señora" and completely stacked it off his bike! He is 63! Bloody maniac! He was fine except for some sore ribs!? and got back on the bike and continued filming!
We all went for a beautiful lunch afterwards and I said to the other girls, "20 bucks says that every sentence from now on out of the boys mouths will start with..." At kilometre blah blah" And yes I was right, but it wasnt just for the day it went along for the whole next week, along with the screaming of pain everytime Marcos moved. Mmm marathons. Fun.

Updates

2008-02-20T01:48:00.013-08:00

Ay! So whats been happening since I last wrote.... well for one, I went skiing. I havent been rushing to write a blog about this cause we only took a couple of photos and none of me! Oh the horror! We went for Marcos´s 33rd birthday, we skied for 2 days and stayed overnight only one night right on the slopes. I haven´t been skiing for a couple of years, I was never really good at it, but I could ski and didnt fall down too much, this time though....different story. I think I skied worse than on my first ever day learning. Granted the sun was beaming and Andalucia had spring type weather the previous weeks, meaning no snow. So it was completely icy. Thats my excuse anyway. I could barely tackle the beginner runs, and I fell over 4 times on the first day... not just some tumbles some BIG falls. One where I fell on my face, dont ask me how I managed that but it happened, lost control, twisted facing the hill and face first snow sandwich. Then the fear of falling got into me and I spent the rest of the day and the following, ocasionally falling, and having a tantrum at the top of almost all the hills. Marcos didnt have the fear of god put into him and was skiing like a bandit and only fell once when he was waiting at the bottom of a hill for me, doing nothing, just standing then bam, on his ass. There was also once incident where I was shocked and impressed to see Marcos skiing backwards, wow, he is a maniac but he can actually do it, Marcos told me later that he didnt do it on purpose, was just waiting for me and started going backwards, couldnt stop and just kept going, he twisted around the right way at the end and if he hadnt of told me it was an accident i would think he should be in training for the winter olympics.
So we stayed overnight in a cute little apartment overlooking the mountains. We were absolutely exhausted after the first day of skiing but as it was Marcos birthday I made him a big pasta dinner and we had champagne. When you are that tired and exhausted, alcohol does funny things to you. We were completely drugged and we could barely string sentences together. Really. We collapsed into bed at 930pm and when Marcos Mum woke us up ringing us at 10pm, Marcos looked at the ringing phone in his hand for 10 seconds before he realised it was a ringing phone and he had to answer it. Then he started talking to his Mum in english! Next day he doesnt even remember that she called. And we didnt even finish the champagne! Disgrace!

Also in breaking news... I got a job!! Its for an advertising agency here in Seville. www.thebrandweb.com if youre interested in checking it out. I started exactly the day after I finished at my last job so there was no time for rest. And its true that its not what you know but who you know. I got the job through my now friend, Isabel, who was my boss at my first job here in Seville. She now works for the equivalent of the state government and the company that I now work for is doing a massive campaign for them. She works for the department of innovation and information so there are lots of projects relating to the web. It is really quite interesting and I am quite excited about the job. However.... they have a minimum work day of 9am to 8pm!!! MINIMUM! I mean REALLY! Its also in the middle of nowhere, in a village just outside of seville city. I cant even ride my bike there! sob sob. She has been left at home since last week and will probably RUST! Noooooo! I have to take a bus. The horror! The money is better than my last job so i shouldnt complain toooo much... You aussies would be shocked to know what I earn, (approx 25K AU$) compared to OZ wages, Spain is 3rd world. The cost of living is alot cheaper here but still.... wages are LOW! And what I earn is considered good here! Before I was on approx 20KAU$! and in design here its very very normal to earn alot less. So I should feel lucky to be working 10 hours a day in spanish village... yeah lucky real lucky. Stop it Kristy. Positive thinking. Breathe. (I have these little talks with myself sometimes).

Well who doesnt need their day to be brightened up with this photo of Little Baby Betty. She is getting bigger now and starting to look like a real person instead of the alien she was before. OK she is still alien like but maybe just a little less. Precious! NOTE TO SISTER: BRING HER TO VEGAS.

Hmm someone needs supermodel training. SHOULDERS BACK! Look at the camera dammit! and SMILE! Or maybe my sister needs supermodel mother training, pull her little top down so you can see she actually has a neck even if it doesnt work yet, please.

Maybe my sister was wearing a low cut top and Betty was hungry, she does look like shes got her mind on other things. I even think that skirt looks a little flamenco style. I think I might have to get her some spotted flamenco heels to go with this outfit. (You can actually get them here for babies - they are so cute!)

Carnival de Cádiz

2008-02-04T03:53:00.000-08:00

On Saturday night I accepted a job from my good friends at Discover Sevilla, (I do all their design stuff) to go on one of 8 buses they had taking over 400 american students to the southern Andalucian city of Cádiz, 1 1/2 hours from Seville, for the Carnivale. It was all pretty simple, all i had to do was dress up, at the meeting spot I had to check off names, put on arm bands and later in the bus on the way let them all know the rules for returning and some other tips for Carnival etiquette. I also had to chose a "best dressed" on my bus to give a prize to. Then when the bus arrived in Cádiz I was free to party with all my Discover Sevilla pals and other helpers who I already knew. Chosing a best dressed was actually quite difficult, everyone dressed up but no-one really stood out. I personally stood out like a sore thumb not really cause my costume was that fantastic, just cause I looked so damn hideous. Most of the girls on the bus were doing sexy dress up, porn pirate, that sort of thing. I personally have never seen a pirate in fishnets and hotpants, but I suppose single gals gotta shake their thang.

I don´t know why it is but everytime I dress up for something I bypass the whole sexy thing and seem to make myself look as hideous as possible. Beards & monobrows are fun I say. Check me out here. I went as a sexy doctor. Obviouly the boys were lining up for a sponge bath. Actually, most of my friends there could barely speak to me! The voice that they knew was coming from a hideous unfamiliar face and it was all quite trippy. My face is outrageously red cause I gave myself red cheeks to make myself just that little bit more sexy, even though I don´t think I needed it cause my face is already so attractivly tomato naturally. My friend Rachel (who works at Discover Sevilla) went as the same thing and we got ready together with Marcos (being a wog himself and naturally knowing about these things) helping us paint our monobrows. Aren´t we hot?

The Carnivale de Cádiz is quite famous in Spain. It is essentially a street party that goes for 1 week and apart from the drinking on the streets there are bands called Chirigotas that compete in a Best Carnival 2008 Chirigota Group competion. They are groups dressed up singing comdeic type songs in a particular style unique to the Cádiz Carnival. There are also "illegal" chirigotas, (being illegal cause they are not actually official competing) that pass through the streets singing some tunes, playing music and getting the crowds crazy.

Saturday night at Carnival is one of the big nights even though it also goes through the day. On the streets of Cádiz on Saturday night, they said there was around 500.000 people out, all dressed up, (I don´t actually recall anyone not dressed up!) So you can imagine the atmosphere was pumping.

I finish my job here on the 14th feb, they aren´t going to renew my contract, which was completey expected as there is no work to do and 5 people from my department had been retrenched in the past few months. I am happy for the change as even when there is work to do here, it is really quite boring stuff, I have been going for jobs and quite frankly I am a damn expert at spanish job interviews, I don´t even get nervous anymore. I am waiting to hear back from a job I really want, it looks like I´ve got it but they haven´t told me the pay yet so I am hoping for a miracle that they actually pay an acceptable wage. I need the euros for Vegas! Ching Ching...hit me! So cross your money fingers for me.....

2008-01-29T04:34:00.000-08:00

As I did a you know you´ve lived in Spain when.... list not long ago, this list, taken from smh.com.au and being aussie day and all, is a necessary addition to this blog.

How do you tell if you are a true Aussie?

1. You know the meaning of the word "girt".
2. You believe that stubbies can be either drunk or worn.
3. You think it's normal to have a leader called Kevin.
4. You've made a bong out of your garden hose rather than use it for something illegal such as watering the garden.
5. You believe it is appropriate to put a rubber in your son's pencil case when he first attends school.
6. When you hear that an American "roots for his team" you wonder how often and with whom.
7. You understand that the phrase "a group of women wearing black thongs" refers to footwear and may be less alluring than it sounds.
8. You pronounce Melbourne as "Mel-bin".
9. You pronounce Penrith as "Pen-riff".
11. You believe the "l" in the word "Australia" is optional.
12. You can translate: "Dazza and Shazza played Acca Dacca on the way to Maccas."
13. You believe it makes perfect sense for a nation to decorate its highways with large fibreglass bananas, prawns and sheep.
14. You call your best friend "a total bastard" but someone you really, truly despise is just "a bit of a bastard".
15. You think "Woolloomooloo" is a perfectly reasonable name for a place.
16. You're secretly proud of our killer wildlife.
17. You believe it makes sense for a country to have a $1 coin that's twice as big as its $2 coin.
18. You understand that "Wagga Wagga" can be abbreviated to "Wagga" but "Woy Woy" can't be called "Woy".
19. You believe that cooked-down axlegrease makes a good breakfast spread. (Vegenmite!)
20. You believe all famous Kiwis are actually Australian, until they stuff up, at which point they again become Kiwis.
21. Hamburger. Beetroot. Of course.
22. You know that certain words must, by law, be shouted out during any rendition of the Angels' song Am I Ever Gonna See Your Face Again.
23. You believe, as an article of faith, that the confectionary known as the Wagon Wheel has become smaller with every passing year.
24. You still don't get why the "Labor" in "Australian Labor Party" is not spelt with a "u".
25. You believe that the more you shorten someone's name the more you like them.
26. Whatever your linguistic skills, you find yourself able to order takeaway fluently in every Asian language.
27. You understand that "excuse me" can sound rude, while "scuse me" is always polite.
28. You know what it's like to swallow a fly, on occasion via your nose.
29. You understand that "you" has a plural and that it's "youse".
30. You know it's not summer until the steering wheel is too hot to handle.
31. Your biggest family argument over the summer concerned the rules for beach cricket.
32. You shake your head in horror when companies try to market what they call "Anzac cookies".
33. You still think of Kylie as "that girl off Neighbours".
34. When returning home from overseas, you expect to be brutally strip-searched by Customs - just in case you're trying to sneak in fruit.
35. When working on a bar, you understand male customers will feel the need to offer an excuse whenever they order low-alcohol beer.
36. You know, whatever the tourist books say, that no one says "cobber".

The Australianitas and 8 odd seppos.

2008-01-29T03:38:00.000-08:00

For one night only the Americanitas and 1 odd aussie gang turned into the Australianitas and 8 odd seppos. As we had an Americanitas event for Thanksgiving, I thought it only fair to have an event for Australia Day.

The invite read, Australians all let us rejoice cause we are young and free, which taken directly from our national anthem, can easily be translated as lets have a big party and get pissed cause we don´t have a liver problem or kids yet.

We started the evening off at my place, where with all the australia themed stuff Mum has sent me over the years, everyone agreed that if I was an american I would be a redneck. There was my full sized flag and my australia flag fairy lights, my australia flag handbag, and of course I brought out the old australia flag tattoos. (Thanks Mum!) I made a big poster that had lots of australian slang words for people to learn. It was fun to hear the americans saying "He was a good root" and "Rack off hairy legs" I taught them what a seppo was, and for the spanish boyfriends I told them they were "bloody wogs". Racism Fun times.

I couldn´t think of an australian cocktail so I made caipirinhas, using both lemon and limes to make the green & gold, green & gold straws and the old australian flag on a swizzle stick. With Bernard Fanning, The Herd and Ben Lee playing in the background, I think the americans got a feel for the australia day spirit. Having it during the day, listening to the Hottest 100 on JJJ and adding a bit of cricket would have made it more authentic but with the time difference, the fact that its winter and that no-one knows what the hell cricket is, made these things quite impossible.

I also made the americans try vegemite baguettes which I decorated with some little aboriginal flags, they were quite a hit and thankfully didn´t have anyone running for the toilet for a vommie which is what Marcos predicted they would do. (He HATES vegemite, can´t even smell it. BAD boyfriend) Sarita is here with the vegemite. She particularly liked the word "clacker" from the slang list although hasn´t quite learned how to use it, asking everyone "hows your clacker?" Is there any other way to use this word other than "stick it up your clacker" ?

Marcos unfortunately couldn´t celebrate too much with us as the following morning he was running a half marathon so he was steering clear of the caipirinhas and on the orange juice, he did however put on a tattoo and kept it on for the race the next day showing his solidarity in his sleeveless running top. ZEXY QUASI AUSSIE!

After the little cocktail do at my place, we went for tapas, OK OK not very australian I know, but if I had an oven I swear I would have made meat pies, lamingtons, anzac biscuits etc but without an oven what the hell can you do? NADA!! So tapas it was, followed by a little dancing and a lovely well deserved hangover the next day.

VIVA AUSTRALIA!

Sun brings Joy

2008-01-23T01:39:00.000-08:00

Probably thanks to global warming, Sevilla has just had a weekend of blue skied 20 degree weather in the middle of winter, aaaaay! The sun worshipper in me comes out and the feeling of the warm sun brings such joy!!! Oh the joy! Thanks to the sun I just had a fantastic weekend. It at least briefly bought back my normal positive mood as I am currently having a hellish time worrying about job/life/location, which I seem to go through every once in a while. The weekend started with drinks at a bar, where my friend Isabels paintings were being exhibited, I really like her style, check her out at http://www.flickr.com/photos/isarte/ Then we went to dinner at her house along with her boyfriend Paco. (They are both ex-workmates and like my soon to be fate were retrenched not so long ago) We had a lovely dinner, drank wine and laughed when I said the famous line in Dirty Dancing "Nobody puts Baby in the corner" which everyone thought was ridiculous. They reckon that in Spain they don´t have as many memorable one liners from movies. I personally have a whole list of favourite lines from movies, granted most of them are from Happy Gilmore - "I eat pieces of shit like you for breakfast." "You eat pieces of shit for breakfast?" and Zoolander - "hansel so hot right now hansel." Paco could only think of "Abre los ojos" Said in a scary voice, which is from the original spanish version of Vanilla Sky. No-one at the table tended to agree with him. In fact even "Hasta la Vista Baby" from Terminator, being a famous one liner for us, in spanish as "Sayonara Baby" doesn´t really rate a mention.

Anyway, on Saturday Marcos and I started swimming! To use the public swimming pools in Sevilla you have to be a member, to be a member you have one chance a year to stand in a line for 4 hours to ensure membership. In our case Marcos lined up in the rain for us, but finally...we are members! Its a very coveted thing and we are so excited. We started on Saturday. For 3 Kings Marcos bought me the whole swimming getup. I have a blue swimming cossie with a pink addidas logo on the front, a pink cap and silver goggles, and god damn I look like susie fucking oneil! Unfortunately I don´t swim like her, but it was fun, and afterwards we walked home in thongs, in the lovely global warming sunshine which washed all my cares away!

Sunday was an equally lovely global warming day, Marcos, who is training for the Seville marathon, went running with our friend Miguel who is also in training, afterwards, me, marcos, maria & miguel went to a nearby village called Carmona for lunch. I have been to a few villages close to sevilla but not many, I really liked Carmona! So pretty! We had lunch in a plaza and then afterwards walked around the streets which looked something like this pic

and up to The Parador which is an old palace/fortress thing that overlooks the countryside. So pretty and a bloody nice day. SUN SUN! BRING IT!!!!!

More Pics of Baby Betty

2008-01-10T06:18:00.000-08:00

Oooooooh little Baby Betty sleeping so tiny and newborn and dang she has a big nose! I had to make the pics B & W cause no amount of colour ajustment could photoshop out the blinding pinkness that is the newborn. They sent me one pic that is just too horrid to put on this blog and it was of her, fresh from the womb and she was purple! And she looked frozen! She scared me. I like her better after she has gotten a bit of fresh air methinks.

Aren´t photos like these suppose to show how tiny newborn baby parts are? Betty´s feet are HUGE! And her big toe is strangely seperated from her second toe! And her pinky is bigger that the toe next to it! For the love of god I hope she bends into shape or get the kid a pair of chinese slippers and bind her up!

Ooh Betty is so cute! She likes having her hands tucked up there!

Such a shame I can´t meet her yet.... will wait till her feet pop into shape and then we can become fully aquainted. I wanted her to come to J´s wedding but it seems Vegas is no place for newborns! Ba! Pokies can be enjoyed by folks of ALL ages!

Boredom

2008-01-08T08:21:00.000-08:00

I am SO bored. The same thing happened this time last year, when I started this blog, remember, no work to do, sitting in front of the computer with nothing but emails and facebook to keep me occupied. All my time wasters are completed for the day. Read my favourite blogs lavidadesarita.blogspot.com & ohquepasa.blogspot.com , checked and replied to all emails and messages on facebook. NO-ONE WRITES TO ME NEARLY ENOUGH. checked www.smh.com.au for any OZ news, www.perezhilton.com for any wacky hollywood news, www.fotocasa.es just incase any amazing rental properties in seville for cheap as chips happens to pop up (negative) and thats really where it ends, nothing, I´ve got nothing, and now I am really bored. I hope this blog is making you bored too just so I don´t feel so bored alone.

I think I may play a game of solitaire online. Yawn.

Little Baby Betty Lee

2008-01-06T07:59:00.000-08:00

My sister Teeny just gave birth to a little girl!!!!!! She wasn´t due till next week but came out a little early and was born on the same day as the Spanish King Juan Carlos! Well she must be destined for great things.... Her name is Elizabeth Lee (me and my sisters all have the same middle name so my sister is continuing the tradition for the girls) Elizabeth is my Nanna´s name but everyone calls her Betty so I have decided to nickname her Little Baby Betty, I think it has a real ring to it. Well here she is real wrinkly and pink, just born and the star of her first mobile phone pic message. She´s already giving her mother the fists so I think little baby Betty is going to be a trooper.

Los Reyes Mago

2008-01-06T07:22:00.000-08:00

So when all the christmas festivities finish in OZ there is still one more to go in Spain.

The Spanish celebrate Christmas Eve with a family dinner, Christmas Day with a family dinner (no presents are given on Christmas day, except for me, when I get to open my presents sent from OZ and my lovely mama.) Then, New Years eve with a family dinner, and finally, on the 6th January, there is the day of Los Reyes Magos, The 3 kings (or wise men) who, as they were the bearers of gifts for baby jesus (baby cheeses) in turn are the bearers of gifts for all the little spanish boys and girls who are good throughout the year.

Their names are Melchor, Gaspar & Baltasar. On the eve of Reyes Magos, there is a big parade that follows a path all over the city, where there are lots of different floats filled with dressed up children in different themes, all throwing out buckloads of lollies to the screaming crowd. And when I say bucketloads I mean bucketloads, the lollies you catch on this day can still be found the following year as you can fill up several plastic shopping bags with the goods. Afterwards, the ground is caked with uncaught lollies and this makes for a very sticky walk home. In the midst of all these floats are the floats of each one of the kings, which brings a screaming crowd, and as the Kings are adults, instead of a 7 year old with a sloppy throw, they are able to throw out a helluva lot more lollies so you can be sure you will get a few in the face from this bloke. Its really quite dangerous, some of the naughtier kids on the floats actually aim and throw with all their might hoping, I suppose, that they just may take your eye out. In OZ that would be a lawsuit for the Harry Potter float waiting to happen.

An upside down umbrella is always a good idea, normally more around than in this pic, but you can see in the air the lollies flying ready to give someone a concussion. (the guys in front of the float are from the band, there is also catchy music playing)

So after the parade, you go home and go to bed, not before leaving your shoe out so that the Reyes know where to put your presents, and in the morning your shoe is surrounded by lovely gifts. I got a cool set for swimming (Marcos and I have just been accepted into the coveted council swimming pool, where you practically have to wait till someone dies to get in) addidas swimming cossie, I look exactly like Thorpie let me tell you, goggles, a pink swimming hat and a matching bag, a basket for my bike, some expensive wine and a pair of wooly black tights. Nice!

For breakfast we eat a Roscón de Reyes, which is like a creamy cake thing and if you are lucky enough your piece will have the little prize that will bring you luck for the rest of the year.

Then of course its lunch, which has now finished and tonight they will show the derby, which is the match between the 2 first devision soccer teams in Seville, which of course is a big deal, Sevilla Vs Betis, Go Sevilla! (I won´t be watching probably sleeping or reading or hanging out on the computer).

So happy Reyes everyone, as of tomorrow the Christmas festivities will be over but tomorrow is the start of the rebajas THE SALES! so that will give me something to cheer up about!

NNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!

2008-01-03T08:25:00.000-08:00

This morning my work computer wouldn´t turn on, the IT guy took it away and he just rang me to tell me that everything on the computer is lost. There was a major electrical fault and the "readable" part of the hard disk is damaged. NNOOOOOOOOOO. I had lots of personal stuff on there. (being sooooooo busy at work and all) 100s of photos that I retouched during countless hours free, at least 3/4 of the photos I don´t even have backup at home, all the original files of my sisters invites!! My new CV, there was heaps...I can´t think of it all, I am SO pissed off!!!!! I am sitting here trying to remember the other things I had on it.....Iciar who sits next to me said thats what she did when her handbag got stolen. I feel the same - its my digital handbag, all my things! Gone!

BASTARD COMPUTERS!!!!!! BACK UP PEOPLE. ALWAYS BACK UP!!!!!!!!!!

Naughty Christmas Party Workmate

2008-01-03T07:48:00.000-08:00

Someone posted this on YouTube from work, its the girl from my office doing a spontaneous flamenco performance at the christmas party, the boss of my company is by her side and is turning a dark shade of red....

Jode´s Wedding Invites.

2007-12-26T03:22:00.000-08:00

So I can finally blog about Jody´s wedding invites cause she has informed me that they have been sent and received and I won´t spoil the suprise for any of the guests. Jody is my sister for those who don´t know her, my twin to be exact & she is getting married in April 2008 in Las Vegas! Fun! So I designed and created her wedding invites, its not going to be a traditional wedding so a non traditional invite was called for. She is completely not a bridezilla and told me I could do whatever I wanted. (Although she was quite picky about the perspective of her name on the Vegas sign - what are you bride an engineer?!) They were really fun to do, that is, except for the part of actually putting them all together. Sometimes designers are more creative than they are smart, and although the layered look of the invites looked fab, the red, then black, then white printed squares of course all came in seperate pices and had to be glued together. This was obviously not thought through. So with 60 invites in total, I had to stick one square on another square, oh only 660 times!!! This was first attempted with double sided sticky tape, when during the first weekend of invite workshop 2007 I didn´t even make a dent on my pile, I tried standard glue, this too was risky as I wasn´t sure it would hold, I finally gave in and spent (well Jody gave in really cause she had to fit the bill!) 36 euros, yes thats right 36euros (18 each! highway robbery) on 2 cans of spray glue to finish the job. I spent countless hours over 8 days sicking sticking and more sticking. I had a sticky tape injury on my finger from when the tape gets stuck and you pull it off and after 100s of times doing this the skin decides to start to come with it. I had a spray glue nozzle tattoed into my finger from so much pressing that didn´t go away for days and the day after I finished I had to spend the day in bed cause my back was so sore from so much bending i could hardly walk!!!! Who´s idea was this???? Oh mine. Stupid Kristy.

Well they were received in NZ by Jody and Chris who loved them and that sweet sound of praise cured any pains I still felt and quitened the repeated voices in my head that said "that bitch owes me 1000s of Margaritas in Vegas" No - along with the praise thats great for the ego, I did it for love and I do not expect any Margaritas (OK maybe just 1?) And if any of you lucky guests are reading this IF YOU THROW THE INVITE IN THE BIN I WILL NOT TALK TO YOU AT THE WEDDING.

So... the fabulous wedding of Jody and Chris, Las Vegas.....

Christmas Lottery

2007-12-26T02:15:00.000-08:00

No I didn´t win, OK, I went in the draw with people from work and I did win 6euros but that hardly counts as winning the lottery. Ok let me just say, the Christmas Lottery draw in Spain is SO SO SO bizarre and confusing. Its called El Gordo The Fat One. Its the biggest lottery in the world giving away up to 2 billion euros (though not all at once).
A whole ticket billete is very expensive, costing 200€. However, these tickets are split up into ten decimos (tenths/ten seperate tickets) costing 20€ each. When buying your tickets you have the choice of buying a single decimo, a whole ticket, or a fraction of your choice. If you don't buy the whole ticket, someone else will buy the rest of your ticket.
THEN on Dec 22, the draw is televised and it has been written to be "the most boring and monotonous TV show in the world" cause it goes for 5 hours non-stop, the balls drop, a number and then a prize amount, little kids who strangely are orphans of Madrid's San Ildefonso school take turns in chanting (yes chanting, not speaking, saying OR singing) the winning numbers into a microphone, they all chant the same way, in the same tone and believe me the tone is WEIRD! Its so weird I had to get this link http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NJdpIXah6mE from you tube to show you an example of how it sounds, believe me I can´t undertsand what numbers they are chanting but they chant about 2000 different numbers and 2000 different prizes so it all turns into a big blur after a while. In the video the kids are walking over to the cameras to say the numbers for the last 3 times cause its a big prize, They say it 3 times when they draw it, but if its a big prize they also say it to the judges 3 times and the cameras 3 times. I mean you just want to shoot these poor orphans!!! They are so annoying!!!

Christmas Party. Spanish Style

2007-12-24T04:01:00.000-08:00

Dang Christmas parties are fun! What could be more fun than free alcohol and seeing your boss and workmates make a fool of themselves. (as long as you are not the foolish workmate all is good). This trend transcends continents thats for sure. Our Christmas party was being held during the day, we have another HQ in Cádiz, 2 1/2 hours south of Seville, so our CP was held in Jerez, a town pretty much in the middle of Cádiz & Seville. They hired a coach to take us all there. We had to work in the morning until 12:30pm, but these hours were pretty much taken up with a bit of nail painting and JuanLu, the big bloke that sits next to me taking all the laptops out of the company laptop bags to fill them with bottles of beer for the trip to the party. The trip to the party was pretty rowdy and could have easily been mistaken for a year 6 trip to Canberra. There was lots of beer drinking, and screaming and some wannabee flamenco singers in the middle complete with tamborine. There was this one girl who didn´t stop singing flamenco songs that had everyone in stitches, I couldn´t understand what the fuck she was singing about it but if her porn type movements and the screams of outrage from the crowd had anything to do with it it must have been some risque flamenco. The trip was only 1 1/2 hours long but it ended up taking closer 2 1/2 cause we had to have a pee pee stop, with 60 people lining up for 1 toilet at the petrol station! So much beer consumed in such a short amount of time and the crowd had to break the seal ALREADY!

The party was held at a finca, a country house in the sherry country of Jerez de la Frontera. The grouds were quite pretty and really spanish looking.

The starters and glasses of sherry were taken in the "Patio de los Toros" unfortunately there were no real toros here, though everyone loves to see a crowd scramble when a bull is let lose. They actually do that in small villages, Stuff Pamplona, its for the weak! Get yourself to a small village during their party week and watch grandma run for her life as the a wild bull is let lose with no set track. That shiz is madness.

Everyone loves to have a bulls head looking down at you while you eat, these suckers were right behind me. Before coming to Spain I was quite against the whole bullfighting thing, don´t get me wrong I still kinda am, but now I undertsand a bit more about how big the culture is and how ingrained it is into said culture. Apart from the part where it gets killed, the bullfighting is quite beautiful, the bullfighter quite skillful & brave and who the hell doesn´t like to yell Olé when the bull almost stabs the bullfighter through the testicles?

And you just can´t say that this bullfighter isn´t an absolute hottie. Hello Fran Rivera, where do you think you´re going.....

A bullring was situated right next to our tables during the lunch, small of course, and after lunch there was a dancing horse show, complete El Caballo Blanco style, that is one clever horsey let me tell you.

And then after the horse show, a little bull fight, not with a bull, but a baby cow. There were rumours that we would be able to have a go doing it, but I was glad that it turned out to be a mere rumour when I saw that thing charge, it was small but it was an angry little bugger. Don´t worry, it didn´t get killed, they just played with it, the sword wasn´t even real, it was plastic and at one stage it snapped, the dodgy bullfighter dropped the cape and the bull rolled around in it. See no killing, fun times for little cow.

There was a prize ceremony and lots of great prizes were given out, including the one that I had my eye on, the trip to Istanbul, which was unfortunately (not for him, just for me) won by a guy that i work with Juan Carlos. Who by the way everyone cals Juanki or Juanka for short and its pronounced Wankey, or Wanka! Funny! I won a red scarf - yeah, great a red scarf... over the moon. During the prize ceremony, raunchy flamenco singer got up on stage and did an even raunchier rendition of one of her songs, including some strange moves that involved flashing her undies, this was done with the boss next to her on stage and the image of her undies and the boss´s tomato red face is forever etched in my mind.

After a few copitas (spirits at the open bar) I had a photoshoot inside the bullring, here we are, ana, reyes and me making like bulls in front one of the protected areas. Well they are making like a bull, I am actually doing the peace sign, spot the español.....

I don´t even remember taking this photo but isn´t this guys moustache cool, he was on the wall near the toilets, and they say his name is Cantinflas and he is an old mexian comedian. Cool mo Cantinflas.

Halloween

2007-12-10T01:31:00.001-08:00

Photos a little bit after the fact but better late than never. I couldn´t bring the digi to the party cause Marcos had it in New York so I had to wait till the monkey monster sent me the pics. My friends Isabel & Domingo had a Halloween party at their place, I don´t have much imagination or budget for good Halloween outfits but I found this wig that I suppose made me Medusa. Wigs are funny.

Isabel witch, Medusa me, fake scary man (he is NOT real and I am NOT dirty dancing with him, photos are deceiving!) and Carlos monkey monster.

Pablo pirate, Medusa me, fake scary man (we´re just good friends) and Isabel witch.

You know you´ve lived in Spain when....

2007-11-29T03:30:00.000-08:00

I just joined this group on facebook titled you know you´ve lived in Spain when..... and they have a funny list about living in Spain which sums up quite well some spainisms, so I thought I would share my favourites.... (The italics are my explanations for the unexplained spainisms).

1) You think adding lemonade, fanta or even coke to red wine is perfectly acceptable. Especially at lunch time.

2) You can't get over how early bars & clubs shut back home - surely they're shutting just as you should be going out?

3) You've been part of a botellon. a drinking party held in the street/a plaza/anywhere

4) You think it's fine to comment on everyone's appearance.

5) Not giving every new acquaintance dos besos seems so rude.

6) On msn you sometimes type 'jajaja' instead of 'hahaha'

7) You think the precious aceite (olive oil) is a vital part of every meal. And don't understand how anyone could think olive oil on toast is weird.

8) You're amazed when TV ad breaks last less than half an hour, especially right before the end of films.

9) You forget to say please when asking for things - you implied it in your tone of voice, right?

10) You love the phenomenon of giving 'toques' - but hate explaining it in English. (Calling someone on their mobile and hanging up before they answer so that they see a missed call from you on their phone)

11) You don't see sunflower seeds as a healthy snack - they're just what all the cool kids eat.

12) You know what a pijo is and how to spot one. (yuppie)

13) Every sentence you speak contains at least one of these words: 'bueno,' 'coño,' 'vale,' 'venga,' 'pues nada'...

14) You know what 'resaca' means. And you probably had one at least once a week when you lived in Spain. (hangover)

15) You know how to eat boquerones. (fresh anchovies)

16) A bull's head on the wall of a bar isn't a talking point for you, it's just a part of the decor.

17) You eat lunch after 2pm & would never even think of having your evening meal before 9.

18) You know that after 2pm there's no point in going shopping, you might as well just have a siesta until 5 when the shops re-open.

19) If anyone insults your mother, they better watch out...

20) It's not rude to answer the intercom to your flat by asking 'Diga?' (Speak!)

21) The fact that all the male (or female) members of a family have the same first name doesn't surprise you.

22) You know that the mullet didn't just happen in the 80s. It is alive and well in Spain.

23) You know the difference between cojones and cajones (testicles & drawers), tener calor and estar caliente (to feel hot & to be horny), bacalao and bakalao (cod & a type of disco music), pollo and polla (chicken & penis), estar hecho polvo and echar un polvo (to feel exhausted & to have sex) ...and maybe (definately!) you learned the differences the hard way!

24) On a Sunday morning, you have breakfast before going to bed, not after you get up.

25) Floors in bars are an ideal dumping ground for your colillas (cigarette butts), servilletas (serviettes) etc. Why use a bin?!

26) You see clapping as an art form, not just a way to express approval. Olé (the flamenco clap)

27) You know ensaladilla rusa (russian salad) has nothing to do with Russia.

28) When you burst out laughing every time you see a Mitsubishi Pajero (thanks Stuart Line for reminding me of that one!) (Pajero means wanker in Spanish)

29) You have friends named Jesus, Jose Maria, Maria Jose, Angel, maybe even Inmaculada Concepcion...

30) When you make arrangements to meet friends at 3, the first person turns up at 3.15...if you're lucky!

31) Central heating is most definitely a foreign concept. In winter, you just huddle around the heater under the table & pull the blanket up over your knees...and sleep with about 5 blankets on your bed!

32) Aceite de oliva (olive oil) is 'muy sano' (very healthy), of course. So you help yourself to a bit more.

33) When women think that clear bra straps are in fact invisible.

34) When it's totally normal for every kitchen to have a deep-fat fryer but no kettle.

35) When you know what a guiri is / have been called one (slang word for foreigner)

36) When you add 'super' in front of any adjective for emphasis

37) Blonde girls actually start to think their name is 'rubia' (blondie)

38) When you accept that paying with a 50 euro note is going to get you a dirty look if you're buying something that costs less than 40 euros

39) If something is great, it's 'de puta madre'

40) You can eat up to 5 times a day - first breakfast, 2nd breakfast around 11.30, almuerzo, merienda, cena

41) You know the jingle for Los Cuarenta Principales...

43) If you see someone wearing a T-shirt with something written on it in English, you can almost guarantee it won't make sense. (Pebble Night was a personal favourite)

44) When you go into a bank/bakery etc, it's standard practice to ask 'Quien es la ultima?' Who´s the last one?

Now I am going to add a couple of my own.

45) You no longer crave fresh milk

46) You actually start to believe that you might catch the cold of death if you go barefoot in inside the house.

47) You no longer put the plug in to wash the dishes.

48) You bring a toothbrush/toothepaste to work to brush your teeth after lunch.

49) You think its normal to drink champagne at the end of the meal instead of at the beginning (or all the way through for that matter!)

50) You love lentils

51) You know what a pressure cooker is and how to use one

52) The idea of blood sausage or pigs cheek doesn´t make you dry retch but lunge for the plate with a salivating mouth.

53) You know how to tell by taste if the jamon (iberian ham) you are eating is pata negra (black foot)

VIVA ESPAÑA!

Thanksgiving

2007-11-23T05:18:00.000-08:00

Being that most of my english speaking friends here are American, last night I celebrated my first ever Thanksgiving. It was held, most obviously at an Irish bar call Flaherty´s who put on a pumpkin soup, turkey baked dinner with cranberry sauce and apple pie (complete with the american flag as seen above) feast. In Spain, lunch is the biggest meal of the day, we usually just eat a salad for dinner, so I was midly concerned that I wouldn´t fit it all in, but as often happens, I suprised myself with my eating powers and polished off the whole lot including mopping up all the gravy with bread to leave my plate looking like it just popped out of the dishwasher - sparkling... TUBS! I thought there may have been some special Thanksgiving songs that I could learn but that was just little ol ignorant me who thought it was kinda like Christmas with jingle bells cheer. They said that some people say one by one what they are thankful for but most there seemed to think that was a pretty daggy thing to do. Bummer, I was gonna be thankful for the american dollar being so weak so that when I go there next year my euros will be like pure gold.

Here we all are at the table, being thankful for yummy food and digital cameras. Viva America!

El Campo & The Blog Premier of the new hair!

2007-11-21T03:56:00.000-08:00

On Sunday we went to a friend of Marcos´s family (Valentina & Isidro - I LOVE the name Valentina!) house in the country to eat Migas. Yes the main purpose of the day/trip was to cook and eat Migas. (Eating is just about as important to spanish culture as drinking outside on a hot day is to aussie´s (or probably just drinking in general)). Their country house is in the village of El Pedroso, where Ms Mum grew up. 60kms from Sevilla. Marcos´s family also have a little house in the same village, though its best not to enter it in case the roof falls on your head which is very likely considering its state. They also have a property, that Ms Dad spends alot of time on, though it doesn´t have a house on it yet, it has what we call "the ruins" which will one day be turned into a house when/if Marcos gets off his fat ass and designs one, we are unsure which will come first, his drivers licence or the house, probably neither. Anyway, Valentina & Isidros house is on a beautiful big property and they grow lots of fruit & veg, lots of which gets passed on to us.

Migas are a traditional country meal, cooked on an open fire using stale bread, lots and lots of garlic, sometimes potatos and chorizo. The sheep hearders eat this for breakfast because with this in their bellies they could be out without having to eat again all day. (It sits like a brick in your guts!)

Of course it can be made just by one person but its much more fun in a group with everyone gathering around the fire to take turns in stirring it. The bread goes in, pre soaked, so its wet, and you have to mix it until the water evapourates and the bread gets dry and crunchy like breadcrumbs. This can take over an hour so taking turns stirring is easier on the old arms.

I was given a turn stirring for photographic purposes, (look new hair!) but was quickly kicked out by the bossy spanish types saying that I stir too slow. Bah! Don´t worry though, what I make up for slowness in the stirring stakes, I give back in the eating stakes. After its done we set up a table outside and all stand round digging in with spoons, no double dipping rules here. The plastic bottle in the foreground of the pic that looks like petrol is actually mosto, a young red wine also drank in the countryside particalarly for its cheap and nasty attributes. Yummy! Tastes like Benadril! Marcos warned me to eat slow cause I had no idea what I was waiting for if I ate too much. Of course I didn´t listen to him and then at home at 7pm I had to go lie down cause I felt like I was carrying triplets and couldn´t stop thinking (and feeling) about all that bread in a big triplet lump in my belly.

And I leave you with a pic of me (with new hair!) cracking open almonds (taken from Ms Dads property) with a hammer, which was suprisingly fun, and at which I was suprisngly good at.

Stupid Job.

2007-11-14T03:13:00.000-08:00

Can´t I just get a job, that I like, that is stable, that pays me decent money IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK???????

SO it seems that Kristy/Spain/October always brings the latest job debacle... its not 100% yet, but things are grim at the mo. At my work, since I started here there hasn´t been much work to do, I don´t even know why they hired another designer, (there are 16 of us) but its been quiet for ages, in July they fired one guy (well didn´t renew his contract), then last week they fired 2 other people, told them one afternoon and the following day was their last day. They said there will be more to come so the atmosphere here is really dodgy, everyone wondering who will be next. My contract finishes in Feb, so it makes sense that I will be one of the next ones to go... It will really fuck everything up for me here cause I have to renew my visa in Jan, can only renew it with a contract - which they probably won´t give me....that means I have to start looking for a job NOW to start in Feb - but to who will give me my contract by Jan!!!!

AAAARRRRGGGGHHHHHHHH!!!!!!! Oh the stress!! Stupid fucking Spain.

So who knows what they hell is going on. I don´t even know if I want to be a designer anymore. I am sick of it. I hate people.

I applied for a job as a tour guide - they said people with mortgages shouldn´t apply cause the pay was too unstable. What about people who pay rent? What about people who need to eat regularly? Stupid jobs. It has been suggested that I teach english full time, (I do 3 classes a week with people who don´t seem to know yet that my english is terrible and I don´t even know how to recognize a noun). I think this will make me want to neck myself. I was asked what the difference was between, alot, lots of, many, some. I didn´t even know how to explain it. Stupid english.

On a brighter note (not) I went to the dentist today and my tooth really hurt while they drilled a cavity so they gave me craploads of anesesia (can´t even spell that see! crap english teacher!) and one side of my face is paralized (temporarily) up to my eye! It feels weird. Only half of my face can smile and not until I feel spit on my chin do I realise I am dribbling.

Stupid dentist.

Welcome to the world little baby Isabelle

2007-11-08T03:11:00.000-08:00

Carrie´s sister just gave birth to this cute little alien! Look at its freaky funny wrinkly hands! So cute!

Photos

2007-11-06T03:19:00.001-08:00

A full set of all my photos can be seen at this web link....

http://www.flickr.com/photos/kristyperkins/sets/

xx

Barcelona

2007-11-06T03:18:00.001-08:00

Back on Spanish soil & VIVA España! Everything become cheaper and in a language I could impress Tula with. In France we were trying to throw a few french words around, Tula becoming amazingly good at saying Merci in a perfect french accent and everything. I was quite jealous. Italy was totally impossible cause we hardly came across anyone that spoke Italian anyway. In Barcelona the catalans were tre impressed with my spanish, especially the fact that I spoke with an andalucian (southern) accent! I have an accent!

First night out and we had a lovely dinner, all that I had been telling Tula about how Spain is Oh so much cheaper came true when when we order a set menu for 18 euros that included a jug of wine, then we spot champagne on the menu for a mere 6.50! Viva España! Of course we decided to celebrate this and order a bottle to have with our entrees! Viva Hangover! Here is the Tula with said champagne.

Next day out and the champagne continues to flow during our day doing all the Antonio Gaudi sites. We stopped for a picnic in Park Güell with cute little mini bottles of champers to keep us suitably tired (good idea at the time) whilst seeing La Sagrada Familia afterwards.

After a champagne induced siesta we were ready for a big night on the town, dinner, red wine, more red wine in a local bar whilst waiting for the absinthe bar to open, (the spanish start late). The absinthe bar is quite cool except for the people who run it. Nasty bunch, I am sure Picasso would have bitch slapped those a-holes. It is supposedly kept in its original state from the days that Picassso and the cool art crowd used to get loopy on absinthe there. "original state" here means really bloody dirty - cobwebs and all. You get a big glass of absinthe, a spoon, sugar cube and a bottle of water and you gotta pour the water over the sugar cube placed on the spoon.

Here is Tula before she realised SHE WAS VERY VERY DRUNK, still happy, smiling and able to remember what she was doing.

We moved on from there pretty quickly, to another bar that is decorated inside to look like you are in a forest - here we realised Tula was VERY DRUNK from the absinthe. Tula doesn´t not remember even being here, (and the vodka wasn´t helping this) nor does she remember the impromtu photoshoot in the bathroom of the bar. Drunky Drunky!

The next day she suffered from a nasty absinthe hangover, and had to ask for a bag to vomit in while we were in topshop. I was buying a a really cool belt so left her outside to suffer the shame of dry retching on a spanish street on a weekday. Poor Love. Cool belt.

Venecia!

2007-10-31T08:15:00.000-07:00

Madonna Mia! So the next stop was Venice, and after a fantastic time in Paris, Venice had a lot to live up to. Oh its beautiful and all, but I am not quite sure we even saw any Italians! I don´t really remember it being that way last time I went, but we seemed to be constantly surrounded by tourists no matter where we went. And OLD tourists at that! We found ourselves saying "where´s the cool bars?" like a couple of nerds looking for a party that they weren´t invited to. It was nice to relax a bit after a pretty busy time in Paris.

When I say relax I don´t mean yoga and meditation, I mean more like sitting in Campo Santa Magarita watching the world go by whilst sipping on several tasty beverages. Here we are in said campo with an olive from said beverage.

We realised in Venice that we had both packed rather stupidly, more for a carribbean beach getaway than for freezing autumn weather. I left Sevilla with still 30 deg tempertaures, thinking that the temp couldn´t vary that dramatically in a neighbouring country (wrong).

We had an AMAZING meal at a recommended restaurant, so authentic that the menu was only in Italian (OK so at this place there were Italians...and thats IT!) and we didn´t understand a word. And so authentic that the bitchy waitress wouldn´t help us chose!! We realised after lots of charades that the meals were for 2 peope to share so we got ourselves a big mother plate of this spagetti scampi (someone else was eating it, throw the menu away - no comprendo!) a big jug of wine and of course, the only italian dessert that never disappoints - a heavenly panacotta. (which we STUPIDLY shared thinking we were full and may I note here that I looked away for one second at Tula had inhaled far more than her half in one scoffing - bitch).

Here we are so proud with our yummy spagetti scampi.

Tula Trip

2007-10-30T04:21:00.000-07:00

So the trip is OVER and its so depressing but man Tula and I had a damn good time! Travelling is fun, travelling with a best pal is fun, drinking everyday is fun!

So the trip started in Paris, I flew to paris from Sevilla and Tula flew to Paris from Sydney. A very glamorous place to meet methinks. Tula arrived earlier in the day and was waiting for me in the hostal room. Our reunion sure was emotional NOT. Of course we did some screaming and hugging and jumping and then I exclaimed ever so subtly "THIS ROOM STINKS" Tula said it was her and I said it couldn´t possibly be, she said she hadn´t showered yet from the 30 hour flight, went out earlier and had 3 glasses of wine (good aussie) and then had been sleeping with the window closed for 6 hours. I still didn´t believe her as the stench was so foul, but low and behold, windows open, Tula showered, the room - fresh as a daisy. That Tula, she´s cute but man can she build up a stink!

Poor love was a bit messed up from the flight, and after a lovely first night dinner and lots of wine and champers, we finally went to bed and like friends who haven´t seen each other for ages couldn´t stop giggling, our neighbours banged on the door for us to shut the hell up and of course that made us giggle even more, I then exclaimed that it was 3 and we should try and be nice and Tula exclaimed "What, three AM???" As it was dark outside and we were in bed I don´t know how she could possibly confuse AM with PM but maybe the trip from OZ does that to you - makes you stupid. Here is Tula in the stinked out room showing me the pillow we had to share that looked like a sausage.

I really love Paris, I have been there before a couple of years ago with my Mum and we had a great time too. The french are no meaner than any aussie rushing down george street being stopped by a japanese asking for directions. We did have one waitress on the first night that was awful. She was so awful we couldn´t stop laughing and the more awful she was the more we loved it. French. Mean. Love it GIVE US MORE BITCH!!!

We met up with my french friend Camille who I met last summer in Bilbao, she is so great and speaks english AND spanish with a cool french accent. She has even been to OZ and loved it so she rocks. Here we are at this cool bar she took us to where we dranks cocktails bigger than our heads. Love this girl!

One of our favourite Parisian meals was this fun place, where you order a set menu that consists of making your own salad from a big basket of raw vegetables and salad item that sits on your table. I thought this was fun, Tula wasn´t so down with a D.I.Y meal that cost 40euros. Then you can go to the buffet where you chose from a display of dubious undescribable things. Tula said the buffet smelt like fart but don´t trust the stinky girl I say. Probably what makes all this bearable is the fact that there are big barrels all around the place where you can fill up your jug with red wine. Unlimited amounts of red wine! An aussie group bigger than us 2 would have drunk that place DRY! After the entrees you get your choice of a slab of meat, then after that a humongous cheese platter, that is impossible to finish.

Here is Tula coming back with our second jug, the effects of the first jug obvious and with Tula slipping into something more comfortable - notably her brickies labourer singlet. Perfect attire for a night out on the town.

One thing I wanted to do on my 2nd trip back to Paris was got to the catacombes, I didn´t get to go with Mum and the sound of underground tunnels filled with bones sounded cool to me. It was so spooky! Undeground tunnels used in the resistence (I forget what that means exactly - sorry Mum there were so many bones I couldn´t concentrate!) which mirror the parisian streets above. Well after the resistence, they were unused so when they had to exhume a Parisian cemetry they filledl the tunnels with the bones. It was all a big mess of bones until one guy (don´t know who -the bones the bones!) decided to arrange them in a tourist friendly fashion. The result is spooky and cool. Lots of skulls and bones. Here is Tula making like a skull.

More skeletons and on to the Chateau of Versaille another thing i didn´t go to with Mum. It was quite beautiful but call us simple, we wanted to see the palace as it could have been in its day, with manequins of servants and the king at the table, all robots and moving just as they would have. Just like at Old Sydney Town.... OK OK we´re simple but Marie Antoinette´s bed had plastic on it! Authentic my ASS! This skeleton was on display in the gardens which were pretty impressive. Cool huge skelton.

We loved the gardens and hired bikes to cruise around in style, they were imense and 20 times bigger than the palace.

The worse thing about Paris was leaving it... we were flying from Beauvais Airport which is in the middle of nowhere, avoid it at all costs. We got to the place where the bus left from. Unfortunately the bus means exactly that. There is ONE bus that coincides with your flight that leaves from Paris and of course we had just missed it. The next one left in 3 hours, so we had had no other option but to get a taxi the 90kms to the airport 90KMS IN A TAXI! I COULD HAVE BOUGHT THE RED BOOTS!!!!! So after a 120euro cab ride we made our flight to Venice. stupid beauvais airport. i can´t even spell your stupid name. I love you Paris. I hate you Beauvais.

Bad Blogger

2007-10-30T04:15:00.000-07:00

So before I blog about my trip with the Tula I will blog about my weekend. It will probably be a very boring blog because it was a very boring weekend.
Marcos left for NY on Saturday, he is gone for 10 days of fun with his cousin although he sent me a text on the first day that read "just walked 3 hours to get to this sordid hotel (his english is SO improving!) NYC is not so cool, Sidney is better." Yay Sidney! Hold on...SIDNEY he can´t even spell it right!!!!!!! Oh so he knows how to say SORDID but not SYDNEY! BAD SPELLER BAD BOYFRIEND!!!
So... on Saturday night, being all alone, I accepted a job being a "hostess" at a climate change conference that was being held here in Seville, to which Al Gore was going to attend. I didn´t really know what being a "hostess" required but having nothing the hell else to do I decided I didn´t care. I got to wear a black business suit, blue scarf, sheer stockings and heels. I felt like an air hostess!! So Glam!! (I am saving it to be my halloween costume). On arrival to the conference I was told that we will be working at the "dinner" not the conference. Then basically all I had to do was tell the people to get on the buses, count them as they got on...and THATS IT! THEN I had to wait, WATCH them enjoy a dancing horse show (el caballo blanco eat your heart out) a bit of flamenco dancing, enjoy a beautiful 3 course meal and get blind drunk. Yes I had to WATCH THEM, all the while standing, and giving directions to the dunnies (toilets) if needed. Oh I was waiting for someone to ask me where the toilet was..all night, it was the hightlight of my duties. I HAVE NEVER BEEN SO BORED IN MY LIFE. If I wasn´t in the middle of nowhere I would have run right out of there. Al Gore didn´t even attend the dinner so I didn´t even get to see him! And whats worse they told me he flew to Valencia on his PRIVATE JET! Um excuse me but isn´t this a conference on CLIMATE CHANGE? and aren´t private planes BAD? I was so bored I wanted to cry. (I really hate being bored) The only thing that kept me going was that I couldn´t stop farting...all night. Don´t know why but maybe my body was also bored and wanted to amuse itself.... they weren´t smelly thank god, but loud! So all I could do to fill in time was try to control myself and release when the coast was clear. Tough night at the office let me tell ya. So then at the end of the night I had to stand by the buses and count the people in. I am NEVER EVER doing that again. B-O-R-I-N-G.

The river

2007-10-08T03:15:00.000-07:00

Every morning I cross the river on my bike to go to work, its a nice ride to work and when I see the river on a particularly pretty morning it always puts me in a chipper mood. I took a pic this morning. So here it is.

Photos of The Snail Family

2007-10-08T03:02:00.000-07:00

I would like to introduce to you to The Snail family. After we painted them, the next day we didn´t see any, we were scared we killed them all!! but bit by bit they all re-appeared, and more empty ones just keep on comin!

Here is Bob, he stayed like this for 2 days! He must´ve been really tired, we thought he was dead but on day 3 he was up and moving again!

And whitey!! With the flash he looks like a glowing ball! He is doing some sliding down the leaf slippery slide. Fun!

Lola is secretly our favourite one. She was the first one painted so we have a soft spot for her.

Sarah, we fit your name on one!!! But sorry, you are a bit gross and have left behind an unsightly trail of slime.

And here are a whole heap of them together having a little snooze during the day! Happy snail family!

Last night I saw 2 little teeny tiny ones! Little babies! I named its mother P after my pal Pennie, but I messed up the P, it looks like a lollypop, so Marcos has to fix it, but P is the mother of these little cuties!!! So tiny!

Snail Family

2007-10-05T02:11:00.001-07:00

So my apartment is located in a block that has 2 typical andalucian patios inside, you enter the block through the street door and are greeted by a big beautiful patio, you walk up to the back corner and there is another little patio which sits directly in front of our apartment. Both patios have lots of pots with plants growing wildly, but the one that sits in front of ours has a lot more pots and plants and is more private as we are the only ones that ever need to go through it.

So in the evening we have to dodge lots of slow moving snails that cross the patio in search of a change of scene or a certain someone. YES WE SAW SNAILS SHAGGING!!!!
Anyway Marcos bought home some liquid paper from work and we´ve been giving them all identities so we can get to know which one is which!!! (Is it cruel to paint on snails? I am torn between the correctness of it all!!??) I thought Marcos was gonna just put a small dot on them, 2 small dots on another but when I came home he had already started (its really his idea – I think it may be cruel but I don´t know why so I am enjoying it but keeping away in case the RSPC gets called) and he showed me “Lola” named after a friend from work with a BIG L.O.L.A scrawled over her shell. Poor Lola.

We are mostly naming them after friends except for one poor little critter, that Marcos came in with and said “Look!!!! I named one Mick!!!! And I said “No you didn´t – you wrote Mike” and he said, “No it says Mi…OH NO!!!!!” So now we have a misnamed snail. We named another one Mick though, so now we have, Mick, Mike, (Poor Mike – got the wrong name) Amy, Lola, Tula and one really small one that started off as number 7 cause nothing else would fit but Marcos fucked up the number so now he is called whitey called Marcos just made his whole shell white to cover the mess. Hmmm maybe it is cruel. But this morning we saw Lola and we said “Oh Hello Lola!!!” – Marcos screamed, “Look Kristy, Lola´s out!” Maybe she is the only one that survived the liquid paper poisoning of their sensitive shells?

I asked the people at work if they think its cruel and they all say no way! (They seem so sure?) Iciar, even said that we should use glow in the dark paint instead so we can find them better at night!!! Now THAT’S cruel!!! They´ll be blinded by the neon in their sensitive teeny tiny eyes.

So next Tuesday I am leaving sunny sevilla for my adventure with Tula!!! Can´t wait!!! We are meeting in Paris, then flying to Venice then to Barcelona then back to Sevilla. A girly holiday is going to be great and just what I need before I start the long road to saving for Las Vegas 2008!! (Jody´s wedding) America is expensive!!

I´ll see if I can update on the road! I hope the snails are OK while I am gone.
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Office Partae´s

2007-09-20T06:54:00.000-07:00

At work when its someones birthday and they can be bothered to do stuff we have a little party in the office. The birthday person brings food and beer and we all stop for a little piss up. Today it was Ana´s birthday (pictured) and she bought lots of goodies but most importantly the beer. Sorry for the bad quality of the photos, the digi was left at home and I had to settle for a few dodgy phone shots.

A standard on the menu is tortilla de patata, she also had a empanada that her Mama made which was bloody tasty althoough in the pic it just looks like one giant burnt meat pie. The red stuff next to the beer is tinto de verano, which is red wine mixed with fizzy sweet soda. Its the premixed stuff, I am not a big fan, I prefer it made fresh in the bar. We have now drunk all the beer. My boss just pulled out a bottle of Ron Miel (honey rum) so as we speak I am sipping a large glass on ice, its sweet but its still rum, I have no idea how potent it is. Lucky I don´t drive. (Can´t you get pulled over for drink driving on a bicycle? In OZ I am sure you can but here I am sure its OK)

Here is a pic of me getting into the cerveza - a rare sight seeing as I didn´t touch beer in OZ. The ol cruzcampo is a little softer that VB methinks. I am looking a bit spastic and wearing my dress that Marcos calls the "Dolce & Banana Dress" Its very yellow but I likey.

Weird Ass Outfits

2007-09-19T05:16:00.000-07:00

One thing you notice walking around the streets of Sevilla is that lots of the kids are dressed like little mini freaks. Ok maybe thats a bit cruel - dressed like they are living in a different century. Mostly the parents look normal - they certainly don´t get around in this sort of get-up. Its a "look" that is quite popular here for kids and never ceases to amaze me what some parents make their kids wear. In the plazas (squares) where lots of kids play in the afternoons, if one runs past me I scream at them in english "Don´t let your parents dress you like that" They won´t understand me of course I am just hoping subconsciously they know what I mean - I am trying to save them. Here is a pic of a shop window showing some of the latest fashions. Yes thats right, that one on the left is for a BOY. Told you they look like freaks.

Birthday Weekend

2007-09-18T04:06:00.000-07:00

Its Tuesday and I still feel like I am recovering! What a huge weekend for little ol 29 years Kristy...

Mick an aussie in London, was coming to visit for the long weekend. He arrived on Friday night at 10.15pm and after arriving back from an 8 day work holiday from south africa only the night before - he was in no real mood for a party but he soldiered on as only aussie´s can and came out to meet all my friends for drinks at Cafe Central in Alameda, which is a small bar that gets so packed everyone spills out drinking onto the street and is only a hop skip & a jump from my house. God Damn we had a fun night! Of course can´t remember much of it and all of my photos are me with isa, me with the americans etc etc. get ready for lots of me with ... photos! Is it me or do I have exactly the same smile in all photos? and why didn´t anyone tell me I had an annoying hair across my forehead? friends eh.

Here is Mick with Marcos and me with Mick - there´s that dastardly hair!

We started the night with a mojito at my place and continued with vino, beer and tintos (red wine mixed with soda or lemon drink a quick substitute for sangria) at the bar before quickly swapping to caipirinhas - as they didn´t do mojitos at the bar. (to cheap for mint - thats what I call palces that don´t serve mojitos)

Here is a pic of me with Isa, who I work with when there is that drink crossover when you find yourself with a warm glass of wine and a fresh caipirinha, don´t worry fellow aussie´s I didn´t let anything go to waste...

A few of the lovely americanitas. we have an "americanitas and one odd aussie" event coming up which will be sure to be fun. Sarah, the proclaimed leader of the "americanitas and one odd aussie" gang so kindly named me the one odd aussie, I requested it to be changed to one hot aussie but odd seems to have stuck. fuckers.

L-R Rachel, the newest addition, Sarita, Tiffany and me....with that HAIR! Argh! The photo was taken by Tiffany´s husband Luis who derserves a whatssup cause he´s so sweet.

Maria and Miguel, lookin mighty guapos, who yáll (is it the ameican influence?) might remember from last weekend´s trip to Isla Magica and the dinner party group. They are a fun (and damn good looking!) pair.

and.... the funnest gang from work... and 2 of their boyfriends.

L-R Isa, Reyes, Iciar, Jorge (Iciar´s man) and Adrian (Reyes´ man) Adrian

I almost got into a bit of fisticuffs when Adrian claimed that I spoke spanish like Victoria Beckham, considering she can´t actually speak spanish I almost had him in a headlock. We made up, I can´t remember how but there are no black eyes so everything is rosy.

Hey almost forgot Amy, my lovely americanita pal who gave me phone credits for my birthday!!Gold! She is clearly sick of me having not credits!!! I´ve never had so many credits on my phone! Its time to text it all away!!

She has superhuman white american teeth and a tan that says "I didn´t work all of august" She doesn´t do anything on Sunday´s ever which she calls "gods day" and she respects this day by staying in her pajamas and watching sitcoms all day. And she really does do this. "Wanna go to the movies?" "Sorry i really can´t - its gods day" I have now taken to using this phrase. Its a fantastic excuse to do nothing.

So after the Friday night drinking bonanza, which was held on a Friday night so that I wasn´t hungover on Sunday for my actual birthday - who´s plan that was I do not know (mine) cause we ended up going to a BBQ at Eric´s house (another american, pal and design client) for his flatmate Amelia´s birthday. I reluctantly let the focus off myself to enjoy a rooftop BBQ with lovely food - although lovely Amelia had 2 cakes and decided to share 1 with me so everyone sung us happy birthday which was nice - me me me. There was vodka consumed and we ended up at home at 4.30am and with a hango

ver the next for my actual birthday.

We went to the beach for the day which was fantastic as the weather has been a bit rainy this week and you get the feeling that summer is on the way out, so it was nice to get some sun & sand. I left the pics on my laptop so I will upload them tomorrow. A lovely & relaxing day.

I had Monday off work to spend it with Mick, we hired him a bike - one of the new sevici bikes that are in little racks that are popping up all over the streets of sevilla and we rode all around sevilla, past the cathedral...through the Parque Maria Luisa, a beautiful park in the middle of Sevilla....

We were supposed to have lunch in front of this lovely church in Triana (a neigbourhood across the river in Sevilla) called Santa Ana....but the bloody thing was closed. Lots of restaurants close on Monday´s.

So all in all it was a great birthday weekend. I am bloody tired and as I went to the beach on Sunday and missed gods day, I think it will be gods day every afternoon this week and I will be catching up on some lounge time......

2007-09-14T04:39:00.001-07:00

Isla Magica

2007-09-10T06:30:00.000-07:00

On Saturday we, (Me, Marcos, Isabel, Domingo, Maria & Miguel - the dinner party couples gang) went to Isla Magica - A theme park - The Australia´s Wonderland of Spain which is conveniantly located in Sevilla. We went cause Maria got free tickets, otherwise I would NEVER pay the 25 euro fee - highway robbery! Most of us had never been before and we thought we would spend a couple of hours there and then go and have some tapas back in Sevilla centre - but no...., we arrived at 1pm and stayed till midnight!!!!! MAN IN WAS FUN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Now normally I don´t like scary rides, back in the day of OZ Wonderland I went on EVERYTHING but being prone to the odd panic attack and scared of dying I didn´t think I would fancy most of the rides.... especially "The jaguar" a rollercoaster where you are attached above your head instead of underneath you so you are kinda hanging there (shoes off!) and it goes upside down at alarming speeds. Can you believe I went on this?????????????????

Maybe it was because I absolutely hate waiting around so the thought of waiting for everyone else to line up while I waited impatiently was much worse an idea than any of the rides. I went on everything. Fun Fun Fun! It was a damn hot day so we got right into all the water rides and wet t-shirt competitioned it around all all day.

One thing we went on was like a train thing where you went through like a pirates ghost house and had to shoot targets.... I came 2nd, at least 20 shots ahead of the others making them question if in Australia we are trained with guns!!! Aussie Aussie Aussie Oi Oi Oi!!!!

It was like having a wonderpass all over again - rides are FUN! We did feel a bit embaressed being of child bearing age and going around without child, as there were gazillions of families there. But oh well.... can´t say no to a free ticket and to a heart attack inducing rollercoaster ride!

The Crazy Family

2007-09-05T03:59:00.000-07:00

So I thought I´d dedicate this blog to Marcos´s lovely family, who for the first time since Marcos and I have been together, are all in Sevilla at the mo. Marcos´s sister Irene and I call them "The Crazy Family" (said in english in a strong spanish accent), cause when they get together things can get crazy. Not in a funny ha ha crazy type of way, more in a mental asylm we need group therapy type of crazy.

Here they all are (minus 1 who doesn´t do family social functions....don´t ask) in our little courtyard drinking some mojitos I prepared. They don´t normally drink to excess with beer & wine so Marcos and I like making cocktails - stronger than your average and watching them get a little loco. (in a funny ha ha crazy type of way). It could be illegal tricking people into drinking too much, disguised by the sweetness of sugar and craploads of fresh mint but do these people look scared? For the love of god thats one TANNED family! damn those spanish olive skinned people to hell! If I was in the pic I´d look like a big tomato red face. spot the foreigner!

So let me introduce you to everyone. In order of age.

El Padre-The Father
Luis AKA Luisito (which he HATES but we call him anyway)

Don´t be fooled by his unwillingness to smile in photos, he really is a happy friendly guy. Actually from the north of Spain in Cantabria he spends lots of time in "el campo" (the bush) on his land doing god knows what but coming back with honey (he recently made a beehive!), almonds, chestnuts & figs. He famously once made his own perfume which no-one else could stand but he covered himself it it claming parfum genius and during a discussion about what year they went to Morocco he once pulled out the money exchange receipt from 15 years ago in a matter of minutes. (To win the discussion of course).

La Madre - The Mother
Casimira AKA Casi

Don´t be fooled by those baby blues this lady will spear tackle you if you don´t stay for lunch.
She has the eye of sherlock holmes after once saying to marcos that she knew we went to the house while they weren´t there cause there were tracks (what am I, a bear?) on the floor from me wearing no shoes in the house and fingerprints the size of our fingers on the table (what is she, C.S.I?) . She likes to be forced into shots of liquer and can often be heard saying, "no marcos, not another one, I´m dizzy" then sipping Marcos´fathers while he is not looking.

Marcos!
AKA Marquitos, Amorcito or Amore in an annoying italian accent.

Has a penchant for pulling faces and making jokes until sometimes people can´t stand his voice anymore.
Likes watching movies in subhuman quantities and avoiding getting his drivers licence. Eats 3 packets of Kikos (bbq flavoured toasted corn) in 17 minutes (he times it - not for speed but he has eaten 3 packets of kikos in a row so many times he knows exactly how long the delicate process will take). Slightly obsessed with mopping and killing bugs in the apartment. (often at the same time).

Ruben
AKA Ruben

A nurse, probably the coolest nurse you´ll ever see apart from on ER. Lives in Lazarote in the Canary Islands. Was almost unrecognizable at the airport on arival a few weeks ago as last time we saw him he has short black curly hair.
Has lived in Italy, speaks fluent italian and also the italian language of fashion with spiffy over the top outfits.

Irene
AKA Irene

Marine Biologist (or something like that I can´t translate what the hell she does!) who works in the aquarium looking after the animals and breeding rats to feet to the snakes! Gross! Mocks me constantly saying "Feliz Navidad" in a really annoying voice cause thats all I knew how to say (or dared say) the first time I met the family. Can´t speak english but she memorized a whole monologue in perfect english about the penguins for the foreign guests at the aquarium without even knowing what the hell she was saying. She lives in Las Palmas in the Canary Islands and has also lived in Italy and speaks fluent Italian.
She laughs at my jokes so I like her. Once she got so tanned you couldn´t recognize her features for being blinded by her teeth.

So thats it. The Lastra Fenutria "Crazy" family. They´re a nice bunch and Casi and Luis, god bless their kind hearts, look after me alot, even if its in the vain hope that I will give them a granchild soon (Lucia that is - Casi has already given it a name and she talks about it as if it exists or is likely to happen soon. When Lucia comes.... etc etc!)

Verano, Portugal

2007-08-09T03:16:00.001-07:00

Its bloody hot in Sevilla at the mo, we were or “orange alert” last week, which means extreme weather conditions as it was supposed to reach 45+ degrees. I don´t notice it tooooo much as its bearable in the mornings on the way to work, then I am in airconditioning. I sure as hell notice it on my bike on the way home from work at 3pm though (no work in the afternoons, too hot! Love Spain!) and I especially notice it when, instead of going straight home to eat, then have a siesta and not leave the house till the sun goes down, I, on one particular day had to ride 10kms to pick up Rohans license from the post office so he could drive on our trip to Portugal. THEN I had to go and pick up a jamon (big mother of a whole cured pig leg,) to take on the trip. The “jamon shop” was in a industrial estate like Wetheral Park (for the westies) All in middle of the day heat. I literally thought I was going to die. Now I know how people die from the heat, riding bikes to buy jamons in 40 deg weather.

So we had our little 1 week summer holiday in Portugal, not like we haven´t been there 1000 times before but its close, cheap and we vowed to check out some beaches we´d never been to before to keep it interesting. Also, Rohan & Brooke, Aussie´s who live in England were coming with us so it was a great opportunity to show them the stretch that we love oh so much. (They were sure to be easily impressed coming from torrential rain and still sleeping with the heating on). Here they are on the beach in Lagos, Praia Dona Ana, one of the best beaches on the Algarve…

We stayed in a village called Santa Luzia in Tavira whose town title is “Capital do polvo” which in portugese means, “capital of octopus”, but in Spanish it means, “capital of fucking!” Oh the joy of translation!

We ate a very impressive meal at our favourite restaurant in Santa Luzia, “Casa do Abade” On their menu they have a section for things you can have if you pre-order them the day before. We had a cataplana, a traditional portugese cooking method of a copper pot with a lid, of fish, tuna & mussels and it was deliciouso!!!!

Here is Marcos looking coolio on his blow up chair on a beach in Albufeira, he loves that chair but is barely on it cause he hates lying in the sun (freak) he prefers a bit of adventure and likes to go exploring along the beach. Lucky for us cause a few coves along he found this amazing beach bar, called "Enjoy Beach" (?) perched on the top of a big rock, overlooking another beach. We thought it perfect for a few mojitos on the huge ban bags as the sun went down.

Marcos prepared the terrace of the place we were staying as a moonlight cinema for “movie night” a relaxing night in after a big day at the beach.

We stayed in Tavira except for one night where we “got amongst it” at the party town of Lagos. (This was said to us by one of the many aussie´s that were working the street in Lagos, trying to get us to come in to the bar he worked for…it went. “Hey guys, come to the red eye bar & get amongst it” It easily became the catch phrase for the trip.
Here is a pic of one of the beaches in Lagos, we had perfect conditions during the day and then continued into the night drinking many a happy hour mojitos that the bars of Lagos have to offer.

Beautiful Praia Dona Ana....

One of the new beaches that we went to was Beliche, a famous beach in along the Sagres west coast of Portugal, it did not disappoint us. Similar to Lagos, but bigger and the huge cliffs much more dramatic.

Here is Marcos being inside one of caves along the cliff scaling the walls. And again, (always climbing) at another beach that I can´t remember the name of climbing a huge rock face with a rope left on it for the fisherman to escape.

No more holidays until October when Tula comes to visit!!! I can´t wait! Watch out – the ladeeee´s are hittin Europe.

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PS Marcos still doesn´t have his license, the only thing he can drive is this. I don´t fit unfortunately so we can´t go anywhere.

Cádiz Weekend

2007-07-16T01:43:00.000-07:00

Word was out that last weekend was going to be the hottest of the season and seeing as it had been 42 degrees all week not one single soul in Sevilla fancied a weekend of not being able to leave the house. So we, along with every other person in Sevilla headed for the beach. Mass exodus! We stayed at the family holiday apartment of my friend Isabel which is in Cádiz and is right in front of the main beach with amazing views! See below....Oh the fresh sea breeze!

The whole "posse" came, our little couples posse that consists of Isabel & Domingo (they recently got married), Maria & Miguel (uni friends of Isa & Domingo´s) and of course Marcos and I. We regularly get together the 6 of us to takes turns cooking a big feast of exotic cuisine and drink lots of vino, they are a fun crowd. ..............................................................................................................

Here we all are at my place a few months ago eating in our little little patio with the new ikea chairs! 5euros each! bargain!

So we were pretty much relaxing on the beach the whole time, (why do I never get a tan below the knee or under my eyes? its a bit freaky really, a beautiful blotchy red tan everywhere else except for under eyes and below the knee. puzzling)

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we did go to this cool restaurant called "la gorda te da de comer" which means "fatty feeds ya" cool name. Fun times!

Only 2 weeks to go till we have a week off, we are going to Portugal with Rohan and Brooke who are coming from Bristol ready for some beach action...its too damn hot to do anything else. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Little Niece or Nephew

2007-07-11T01:03:00.000-07:00

My sister teeny is having a BEBE!!!!! Here is the first pic of it to prove its existence, To most it looks like a big blob, but to the loving mother who clearly has superhero vision the baby has its 5 fingers spread out in front of its little baby alien face. Clearly to the loving aunty (me) its high fiving and saying whatsup??!!

2007-07-10T00:08:00.000-07:00

OMG Nightology was so much fun!

You know its gonna be a big night when you get picked up by someone who has a loud speaker in her car…. God knows where she got it from!

The party was in a hotel near the train station in Sevilla. Marcos, me, Amy (my American friend, word up Amy, she is bitter she never gets mentioned in my blog!) and crazy as a firecracker Lola who works with Marcos. The party was put on by J&B whiskey, and although I am not generally keen on whiskey its amazing what a couple of complementry drinks can leave you a taste for! Viva Whiskey!

Who is this bitch that my boyfriend is kissing. Oh its Amy, my american friend that is bitter that she never gets mentioned in my blog, and now the bitch is getting it on with Marcos. I´m gonna smack that bitch out.

So there were a few bigger rooms opened up for the bar and dancefloor, but then there were 2 floors of just normal hotel rooms, some of them were empty where you could just chill on the comfy beds and some of them had crazy things in them. Everyone was in a crazy mood, everyone friendly at chatty. here are some examples of the hotel rooms.

Pic.1 One of the rooms had a mariachi band, they were my favourite, they started up a crazy mexican tune and people went crazy.

Pic. 2 A gingerbread Man! He gave out ginergerbread men to snack on an dang they were tasty!

Pic. 3 A man dressed up as a tree. He was funny, maybe we were very drunk by this stage but he bounced on the bed with us.

Pic 4. Lets hope they were "actors" but poor granny and grampy´s much needed Zzz´s were interupted by crazy partygoers pumped up on whiskey. Lucky they had a truckload of pills on their bedside table to keep them drugged up and chilled out.

Pic. 5 Me with a pretty japanes lady who looked like a statue she was holding that poker face so damned still.

Pic. 6 The spanish people were spun out by this bloke who i later found out was one of spain most infamous criminals - Diony. He robbed one of those cars that take money to the banks. he was later caught and did 10 years in prison but not before he lived it up 1 year in Brazil spending all the money!!! I had a big long chat to him telling him i was from OZ and making him tell me the story. I asked him if he knew who Ned Kelly was and he didn´t.

There was a part where these crazily dressed queens were doing crazy hairstyles on people. They did one on Lola, lucky bitch (or perhaps unlucky depends which was you look at it, she spent 1 hour in the shower the next day trying to get it all out, and not only was she hungover she was V late for work!)

Here we are, Lola and I dancing with Elvis and Marcos and I wearing our flickering light rings. Peace Out.

This is one of my fav pics of Marcos EVER! They had this room with this big screen and this box you had to scream in to put your face on the person. The person would then cut some very daggy (uncool for the non aussies) dance moves on the screen with your face on it! Fun!

This is what whiskey does to you kids. Not very fresh looking faces after all the fun and games were over.

Nightology

2007-07-03T00:27:00.000-07:00

J&B Nightology electric hotel, the new and suprising summer J&B event, will tour Lisbon, Sevilla, Madrid, Barcelona A Coruña Valencia during June, July & August. A unique and unrepeatable event, where reality and fiction meet. Extravegant characters, unexpexted situations and moments convert the rooms of each chosen hotel into an unforgettable experience.

Am very excited cause we have been trying for the past month to win tickets to this party Nightology Electric Hotel, its a party put on by J&B whiskey, you can only win tickets by getting codes when you buy a J&B whiskey at certain events in bars around Spain, with which you have to go online and entre in your code and see if you win. The website is an amazing 3D hotel which you can also navigate like a game, collecting points until they give you a code to try your luck. Its quite addictive considering we don´t even know where the "electric hotel" is going to be and don´t really know what its going to be like. All we know is that its a hotel with 200 rooms to party. It sounds like fun to me. When you win, you get 2 tickets, there is 4 of us who want to go, a few weeks ago we won 2 tickets and then just last weekend we won the other 2 - just in the nick of time. we are so excited! Its on Thursday (weird!) and we have just found out the location today, it seems to be in a 5 star hotel not far from the train station..... I´ll be updating soon with photos!

Micks 30th Weekend

2007-06-14T06:46:00.000-07:00

Went to England for an extended long weekend with Marcos, first stop London for Micks 30th birthday and 2nd stop Bristol to visit Rohan & Brooke, those nice old aussie´s from good ol Sydney. London is great fun as long as you don´t have to live there I say. I don´t miss the tube and black snot at all. The weather was not too bad, ie not freezing, but it is summer after all and yes it was still grey. We had no real plans except to celebrate Micks birthday and eat as much foreign (ie NOT Spanish) food as possible. And that we did, in 5 days we had meals of Thai (twice), Japanese, Malaysian, Carribean, Italian & Indian. Yummo indeed. Though we couldn´t escape it as England is mad for tapas bars and they were bloody everywhere! With outrageous prices to match, anyone who´d pay 5 pounds for croquetas must have rocks in their head.

Mick chose the opportune time to become sick and had a very sore throat from Friday onwards which gave me the rare chance to talk more than he did. We didn´t even fight about Madonna or anything that’s how weak he really was. We started the weekend out in SoHo where Mick had the nerve to order herbal tea, not only have I never seen Mick drink tea of any sort let alone the herbal variety but I think that sort of thing is illegal in SoHo. Here is a pic of him drinking his tea, looking all very everybody jiggling lipton jiggling.

After popping about 100 (don´t try it at home kids its dongerous) painkillers on his actual birthday he miraculously came good (or was he high?) for his birthday feast on Saturday night. We had pre dinner champers with the boys:

Then we went to a V glam Malaysian restaurant called Chompar Chompar and feasted on glam expensive food and yummy wine. When we were chosing the wine, most of us favoured white and knowing that Mick only drinks red I suggested he get his own bottle “Oh no, I couldn´t possibly drink red wine, my throat is far too sore for that scratchy red wine business” “What!!??” I said, “no drinking – but its your birthday!” to which he replied, “No no, don´t worry I am going to drink caiparinhas!!” Yes I am sure limey, sugur cane cocktails from Brazil is just what the doctor recommends!

Here I am with my stunning meal. And here is Mick with his birthday cake. 30 years young!

Then we were off after a bacon & eggs breakfast (I MISS going out for brekky!) to Bristol to see Brooke & Rohan. A nice change from London, still very English but without all the craziness and dirtiness of London. They live in a cute little place surrounded by lots of greenness. So much greenness in fact that Rohan was inspired to teach Marcos how to play AFL (Australian football for the foreigners) in the park. I of course sat under a tree and read one of the several English books I had just bought (I MISS books in English!) while the boys kicked the footy around. Marcos didn´t bring any sneakers so he was running around in one sock which was amusing, he of course is still injured 3 days later. He has a nice grass stain from a few dramatic dives (completely un-necessary but he likes the action) here are some pics of the boys and one of Marcos looking particularly spiffy in Rohans Swans jersey. V HOT.

Exhibition in Sevilla

2007-05-31T08:32:00.000-07:00

My friend from work Isabel recently exhibited a painting in Rubec bar/gallery in Sevilla and I went along for the opening partae for moral support and free wine. Isabel is the one at the front posing with Paco, her lovely boyfriend, who is also a friend from work. The other girls are lovely friends of Isabel´s. Her painting is in the background. She is V talented!